Dissolution
by sydneysages
Summary: The walls come crashing down, and it ends with Amelie and Oliver dead. Morganville is in disarray and requires a new leader: just whom will it be? /set after Carpe Corpus.
1. Problems

**Chapter 1:**

**Summary:**

**Amelie is dead. Oliver is dead. Morganville is in disarray and it needs a new leader. What if the ideal candidate is Claire? But will being the 'Founder' change her? And will it be for the better or for the worse?**

"No!" Amelie screamed as she saw her father about to drain Sam, about to kill the one she loved. She had enough momentum, she thought, in order to be able to wrench herself out from the silver chains in which she was bound, especially because Oliver had released her. Never before had she shown so much emotion to the public as she did in that scream; the roar which came as she launched herself through the air to bat her lover away from Bishop louder than anything the horrified public had ever heard from their Founder.

But all she did was put herself in harm's way.

"My daughter, you are a _silly_ girl," Bishop hissed, having righted himself within an instant, as he dragged her up by the ends of her hair, ignoring her escaped squeal of pain – the most normal she had ever been, and she was going to die. "Ysandre, please take Oliver. It seems he is in fact on this weak thing's side, and not ours as I had previously thought, which is rather disappointing. We could have been great allies, Oliver, with your history and desire for blood, but you chose the wrong side." he gave the order to have Oliver bound, something which Ysandre took great delight in doing, lashing Oliver's wrists together with silver chains. Though he bared his fangs, he was at the disadvantage, and there wasn't anything he could do to change that…not now, anyway.

"Go, Sam, _go_!" Amelie cried as Sam simply sat there, in the position he had landed when Bishop was made to drop him, waiting for her to be released so that he could take her place. But he knew, in his heart, that now Bishop a hold on Amelie that she wouldn't be released. It was always going to be him or Amelie, and she had ensured that it was now her.

So he did what she wanted. He ran across the stage and barrelled into Francois with all his might, as the dangerous vampire was reaching across to attack Claire. Sam threw him so far that he landed on the stairs on the other side of the stage, one hundred metres away – he wasn't normally that strong – in fact, he was weakened because of the poison in his system – but the fear for his Amelie drove him to new strengths that he had never considered before.

"You, Amelie, need to learn what respecting your elders means," Bishop snarled at her, lifting the sword that lay to the side of the throne, previously obscured by a sheet of velvet. Nobody had noticed its presence before, but now it had been noticed, every single one of vampires and humans below stopped fighting to watch in amazement as their strong queen, their brave fighter who fought for all of them, was forced to her knees. They watched as she couldn't fight back, how she turned to look at Sam with tears in her eyes. They watched as she betrayed her pain, her fear, her heartache, in that glance, especially when Sam cried out for her.

They watched as her perfect, golden head was separated from her body.

"NO!" Sam, Claire, Michael, Myrnin, Richard and Hannah all yelled simultaneously as this happened, especially when Oliver followed to his death in quick succession, on the already blood-soaked stage. The public below suddenly began fighting back harder against Bishop's vampires, knowing that if he could treat his own _daughter_ like that, killing her so brutally and swiftly, they could – and would - be decimated in minutes.

Sam collapsed back to his knees near to the crimson coloured section of the stage, unable to fight anymore as the realisation his Amelie was _dead_ hit him. Dead. She had died, and left him there – how could he move and leave the site of where she gave her life for _him_? He didn't want to, and he certainly wouldn't move by himself, not if there was a chance that he could always follow Amelie on into death.

"Come on, Sam, you need to move!" Claire yelled at him, dragging him out of harm's way to the corner of the stage, adrenaline aiding her to get him all the way over there. He couldn't move without her help; he was motionless when she left him on the side, knowing that she had to go back and fight – fight for Amelie, and even Oliver, fight for the woman who let her father kill her so that they could have a chance of fighting back and winning from the surprise angle. But even as she left, her eyes stayed on the forlorn man, his head still pointing in the direction of where Amelie had been, mere minutes before.

"Dodge!" Michael roared across the stage to Claire and she moved to the side, narrowly missing Ysandre, a vampire who seemed to have a personal vendetta against Claire. Claire span back around, ready this time for the impending attack, and lifted the small silver knife that Richard had handed to her.

Ysandre attacked…and Claire stabbed her in the heart with the knife, watching with a vindictive smile as the peroxide blonde fell backwards onto the stage. The area around which the knife had penetrated – a reason for Ysandre to have worn a slightly _less_ revealing top – turned black, looking more than _considerably_ painful.

"You little—" Ysandre began, but soon stopped talking when the wooden stake hidden in Claire's trouser leg met the side of the silver knife, forcing itself down into her chest. _Easier than I remembered_, Claire thought, remembering the time that she had staked Myrnin, mere months before: that had been difficult, probably because Myrnin was trying to kill her at the time, but this seemed ridiculously easy in comparison.

Myrnin… where was he? She looked around for him, having forgotten that Bishop had already given him the cure…she half expected to see him either writhing in pain on the floor, or attacking their allies as well as their enemies. But, alas, there he was, a grim expression on his face as he fought for vengeance for his longest ally, and the man who he had hated for many, many years, a steely determination in his face that Claire could quite easily understand.

"Claire!" Eve and Shane yelled her name, almost making her turn back to them; it certainly made her jump, and realise that she couldn't analyse Myrnin in the middle of a battle. But she gritted her teeth and ignored them, heading for the same place that Myrnin was. She _had_ to take her revenge for the murder of Amelie - if not for herself, then for Sam. He had lost Amelie and it was because she had died to save him, as well as Morganville. He needed to have her murderer killed.

Claire didn't have anyone to confirm this decision to kill Bishop with, because, well, there _wasn't_ anyone to confirm it with! Every human on the stage was fighting to the death, Oliver had been murdered along with Amelie although nobody seemed too fussed about him, honestly, and Myrnin was a _little_ preoccupied fighting with three vampires at the time. There was nobody to take charge – therefore, she needed to make her own decision.

So she went for it. Bishop was still standing there, untouched by a single vampire as nobody dared to take on the vampire who had just _murdered_ the town's strongest two vampires. He had destroyed the struggle between Amelie and Oliver as to who would be in power by killing them both. Who would _dare_ contest him now?

Claire would.

Claire did. Claire snuck up around the side, dodging the huge pools of blood that belonged to Amelie and Oliver, her one time _allies_. They were the people she was fighting for, the people who were _good_, scary as it was to admit that vampires could be good. And look how easily he had managed to destroy them! They were gone within seconds, as soon as he had gotten a hold on them. Their dismembered bodies were lying almost on top of one another, carelessly dumped once the ceremony of beheading them was complete.

They were forgotten about.

Shutting her eyes and mind to the horrific sight of _Amelie_'s head lying on the floor, her grey eyes unseeing and unknowing, Claire realised that there was no point in sneaking up on Bishop – the eldest vampire in the world ought to have no problem in hearing a human approaching him.

"Child, I wouldn't bother to do that," he said, as she lifted her silver stake, covered in blood and sweat from when she plucked it up from the floor. Of course, he would be able to hear.

"_You_ don't get to call me 'child'," Claire hissed, a pang of guilt and pain – who knew she would feel upset that a vampire had died – hitting her as she remembered Amelie. "The only person who could call me that, who actually called me that, is dead. So don't you _dare_ insult her memory by calling me that!" she exploded at him, barely able to hear her own voice through the screams caused by battle but she knew that he would be able to hear her, without a doubt.

"I see that you had a certain…_bond_ with Amelie, hence the Protection she gave you," he smiled smarmily, a certain bitterness about him that made Claire want to just go and stake him right _then_. "But she is dead, Claire. And now, you choose to either swear allegiance to me right now, or I will kill you. You are nothing to me, Claire, and therefore, those are your choices," he informed her, an almost _grin_ stretching onto his face. That was a scary sight. He knew he had her right where he wanted her…

…or so he thought.

"What if I choose option three?" she said, closing her eyes to him, in order to confuse him. "What if I choose to kill _you_?" she stated and he threw his head back in laughter, a sound that, again, was strange to be issuing from Bishop's mouth. But this pause in concentration to laugh would cost him.

It would be his downfall.

Whilst he was distracted with her talking, Myrnin had snuck up behind him. Claire was all set to stall Bishop for longer, so that a vampire on her side could sneak up behind him, but there was no need. Myrnin was waiting, and motioned for her to move forwards at the same time as throwing his arms around the elder vampire and squeezing as tightly as he could.

"Fool, you _die_ along with your pathetic friends, my good for nothing daughter and her idiotic follower!" Bishop yelled, but couldn't continue because soon, a silver stake was in his chest, thrown by Claire almost effortlessly.

It was so anti-climatic, watching him fall backwards, that Claire almost laughed at the absurdity of it – _Bishop_ floored with merely a well placed stake! She almost laughed as Myrnin jumped out of the way, releasing the man in the process, so that Bishop's head smacked the stage so hard that blood began to converge behind his head. She almost laughed as he took his last breaths, evidently having an extreme reaction to the silver…something that she never knew he would have a problem with. _He's been good at keeping _that_ a secret,_ Claire thought, unable to understand how he could be killed so quickly.

"I tested out increasing the strength of the silver over the last months, and switched some of the previous assortment of weapons with my own creation," Myrnin explained as he noticed her questioning glance at the speed by which Bishop died. Yet nobody else seemed to have noticed the vampire's death – the fight to the death was still continuing, although it was apparent that their side was winning quite easily. Nearly every human, including those who hated _all_ vampires, was fighting on their side to ensure that Bishop would be wiped out, knowing that Amelie's people would be much fairer to them. Perhaps even their new ruler would give them everything they wanted.

"So he is dead?" Claire questioned, unsure that he could be truly dead so simply. Myrnin, to prove he _was_ dead, picked up the stake from his chest and used it as a blunt axe to cut his throat so deeply that there was no way that nerves could get through to the rest of his body – not even a vampire could survive something like this, she thought.

"He is dead," Myrnin confirmed slowly, dropping the stake and surveying the fight scene. Claire turned around as well and saw that the last of Bishop's vampires had realised that their ruler had perished, that they had nobody to follow. There was nobody left to follow, nobody to unite them against Amelie's former people, and therefore, they had to admit that they had lost.

The only person who didn't know what was going on was Sam. All he could see was Amelie's face as she turned to look at him, using her last seconds on the earth to show him that she loved _him_; all he could see was those final seconds over and over again in his mind, on a sort of loop that he couldn't stop. All he could see was how terrified she was, how she knew she was going to die and couldn't do anything about it.

Across the Square, there was a feeling of intense joy, a desire to rejoice, that was muted by the events that had sparked their victory. Nevertheless, Amelie's side had won.

But now, there was no leader.

That was a bit of a problem.


	2. Solidification

**Chapter 2:**

Within three minutes of the announced surrender, Richard Morrell took control of the entire town, vampires included, and had every one of Bishop's vampires executed within another five. He couldn't take the risk of them starting another thing against the town, especially with both Amelie _and_ Oliver murdered. He wouldn't have a chance of surviving, if they tried to gain power, and neither would most of the human population.

"Sam, you need to move," Claire said gently, tugging at his shirt gently as dawn neared. He hadn't moved since she had got him to get to the side of the stage in the middle of the fighting, which had been a good eight hours ago. The entire time, she had been with Myrnin, trying to sort out just what was going on. Shane and Eve had gone home, glad to get out of the drama surrounding the death of the Founder and her main ally, whilst Michael had been helping with the clean up process, one trusted only to vampires.

The bodies of the two dead allies had been put together, their mutilated state unobvious due to the careful work of those who moved them, and set underneath the stage out of the way. What to do with them was unclear – did they bury them or…? Nobody knew, including Richard, the person who had been elected in charge of everything. This was not a promotion he seemed happy about; he had enough to deal with when he was just the mayor of the humans, let alone the vampires as well! He knew that it_ had_ to be only a temporary solution, perhaps that Myrnin (now the eldest vampire) could be the ruler, now he was restored to full sanity.

"I'm not leaving her, Claire," Sam muttered, and Claire realised that she had actually gotten a response. He hadn't said a word for hours, but she now noticed the tear tracks staining his face, betraying his emotion – not that it would be hard for her to guess how he felt…but it was still strange to see a vampire showing how they felt.

_She died for me_, he thought over and over again, the thought making him hurt but he liked that – he deserved the pain for making her die. _He_ was the one who ought to have died, especially as it meant both her and Oliver had to die. They had died in a much more brutal and humiliating manner than he would have had to endure…she had known her life was ending and she had made the decision to end it to protect his feeble self, someone who was nothing without her. She had had time to feel pain and fear at the hands of her father for the last time; she had known he would be the last one to touch her, her disgusting father the one who had the pleasure of being close to her…

He wouldn't have.

"She is leaving, Sam," Claire said to him gently, her hand on his shoulder in comfort. The tears were evident in her voice as it trembled, showing just how shook up she was about the death of Amelie. "You need to come with me, home. Please, Sam, come with me," she urged him and something in her voice, the way that she was controlling the situation, made his body move without his mind actually okaying the movement.

So she took him home to the Glass House, Michael driving as Sam just stared out of the window. He didn't look at anything in particular, but could only see Amelie's face in her last few seconds, the sheer terror evident in her eyes…

_~x~_

The funeral for the two vampires took place the following day – it was the first funeral for vampires to have ever occurred, and it wasn't a happy place. Everyone in the Glass House helped Sam with getting ready for the funeral but it was a subdued and quiet affair getting ready, as nobody quite knew what to say to him. They couldn't comfort him because they didn't have a right to, none of them having gone through the loss he had. Words of condolence just seemed false, so everyone stayed silent, this continuing till they reached the church.

"I can't do it, Claire, I just can't," Sam whispered as he sat in the car, refusing to get out even after Eve, Shane and Michael were already inside. Claire bit her lip, wondering just what to say, before plunging in.

"I know it must be hard, Sam, but you have to realise that she did this for _you_," she pressed, deciding that this probably wasn't the best path to go down as his bloodshot eyes looked up at her in anger and pain. "I mean…if it was you in there, you can bet your bottom dollar that she would be in there, even if it was…just to say goodbye. You need to, Sam…you need to accept that she is gone and she can't come back. It's impossible…" she continued, before he suddenly pulled her in for a hug and began to sob into her shoulder. It was the most emotional display she had ever seen and she herself began to cry until she remembered that she had no right to, that _he_ was the one who had faced the loss, not her.

Five minutes later, he was composed enough to enter the church with Claire, and strode to the front where he sat with Claire, Michael, Shane and Eve. Every vampire in town was present, along with important humans…nobody chose to come to the funeral…after all, they were vampires and she wasn't particularly well known besides for choosing to set up Morganville. Amelie had kept to herself for the majority of her life, and even when she issued orders to bring people to Morganville, it was only her name that was used; many of them had heard of her, but very few had even _met_ her.

The vicar said his sermon, the standard one with just a few adjustments for them being vampires. Nothing particularly memorable happened…until it was Amelie's remembrance.

Sam stood up on shaky legs and took a deep breath before striding forwards and turning to face the church filled with vampires. "Amelie died to protect this town, as she swore she would do against her father," he began, a tear sliding down his cheek as he spoke. "Amelie was a _good_ and honourable woman, who cared deeply for everyone, although she didn't show it…very few people in this town were privy to her weaknesses and so people didn't think she had any. That is false. She simply protected herself as she put _every_ ounce of her nature into this town. If you try and destroy her legacy, I swear it will be the last thing you do," he hissed the end part, making much older vampires recoil in shock and fear, something that they would later claim had never happened. But there was something in Sam's face that made them certain that they would live to regret ever badmouthing Amelie to his face…

…yet he knew it probably wouldn't be enough. Richard Morrell wouldn't be able to control them _and_ the humans. They needed a new leader, the vampires did, but there was nobody. After all, who would want to follow in Amelie's shoes?

Sam swallowed a huge lump in his throat before looking over at Amelie. He could barely see the woman he had known and had the chance to actively love for the past six months. There, she had been a fiery and passionate soul, someone who showed her emotion and dressed normally. Here, she was dressed in a plain white dress and her hair pulled around her shoulders to hide the lack of connection between her head and her body. She looked as if she could have been sleeping…but Sam knew she was leaving him forever; never would he be with her again, never would he see her face again – _this_ was goodbye.

And it hurt like hell.

"I have some words for Oliver!" Myrnin called as soon as Sam sat down. Dressed primly in a black suit, he was in mourning for his friend Amelie…but Claire cringed at what he would say for Oliver. Why someone hadn't have had the forward thinking to tape his mouth shut so he wouldn't embarrass himself or the dead Oliver was beyond her, but it was too late by then.

"Very well, Myrnin," Father Joe sighed, hoping that he wouldn't have to defend the dead man against Myrnin's vicious tongue. "Clean, please. Remember we are honouring them today," he pressed.

Myrnin nodded as he stepped up to the staged area of the church and clasped his hands together in front of him. "Oliver and I never saw eye to eye as allies of Amelie, and neither wished to: it was mutual hate at first sight and both of us admitted it without qualm," he began, not actually calling Oliver any names. But Claire knew that that could all change… "I still remember the first time he called me a crazy dog – I retaliated by calling him unclean and insinuating he had slept with the entire street…that was one of many good times, oops sorry!" he got lost in the moment before turning to look abashed at the vicar, who was admonishing to say the least.

"Perhaps you ought to stop," he suggested but Myrnin shook his head, _tears actually forming in his eyes_! Well, until he blinked them away to be replaced with a manic grin…

"What I am trying to say is that Oliver and I _enjoyed_ insulting one another – for centuries, it was our favourite entertainment and we actually found more pleasure in each other's company than we would have ever admitted," he continued, barely audibly. Claire could feel the tears forming freshly in her eyes and realised that Myrnin didn't _truly_ hate Oliver. "I'm not saying that the lack of derogatory insults will not be refreshing, but the fact that I cannot test out my own wits is rather depressing. As is the fact that we have lost a loyal ally, alongside the bravest ruler we could ever have had. I'm sorry, this is supposed to be for Oliver, but I have to say that the moment this world lost Amelie, it became a much darker and more dangerous place to be. Thank you," he blurred back to his seat on the opposite side of the church to the Glass House residents, in order to hide the tears forming in his eyes.

_Pleasant funeral_, Claire thought wryly before wondering if, perhaps, peace could have finally been brought with the death of one of the biggest peace makers in the town.

She thought wrong.

_Three weeks later:_

"That's it!" Richard exclaimed loudly, throwing his pen down on the table in anger. Myrnin looked up in confusion from the end of the table where he was sat reading the report, whilst Hannah and Claire just jumped. Sam, however, didn't even react. He simply sat there, staring into space, as he did all the time since Amelie had died, baring his outburst at the funeral. Michael generally went by his flat every day, partially in guilt for their missed past, but also to ensure that he didn't do anything stupid, and leave Michael with no family in the town whatsoever. "I quit this double job! I can't do it! It's too much pressure for one person!" he continued, flailing his arms wildly in showing his emotion.

"Why today?" Myrnin asked in a bored tone, rolling his eyes. Evidently, Myrnin didn't really care.

Richard looked as if he planned on staking him before shoving garlic all up his ass – like eve wanted to do to Michael – as he picked up his copy of the report and threw it down the table to Myrnin, who caught it with one hand effortlessly. "Read from the top," Richard ordered, making the eye roll from the eldest vamp ever more prominent. But he did as he was asked, reciting in a bored tone:

"Thirteen human deaths have occurred since the regain of Morganville into 'friendly' hands. This is more, in the same length of time, than in the other's control. People of Morganville are worried… blah, blah… more rogue vampires…lack of control and order…" Myrnin cut out most of the long, warbling report and got down to the nitty gritty. "So? I don't see the problem," he shrugged, looking at Richard with his (unnecessary) reading spectacles perched on his nose.

"The _problem_ is that this town is out of control and needs a ruler for its damned vampires, otherwise I am _this_ close from disbanding it," Richard snapped back, running a hand through his hair.

"No," Sam said, so quietly that they all wondered whether they had actually heard him or not. "She died for this town…you are _not_ destroying her legacy, otherwise there is nothing left of her. This town stays complete. If Richard is unable to deal with it, then we need a new leader," he continued, passion for what he was saying evident in his tone.

"Sam's right," Hannah agreed with him, meeting his eyes with a brief smile before turning her gaze back to Richard. "We need someone to keep them under control and everything else, as well as making the official decisions, as Amelie did…you have enough responsibility, Richard, than to be making _every_ decision. Just who?" she pondered this, before coming to the same conclusion everyone _but_ Claire reached at the same time.

Every eye in the room turned to Claire and she realised then just _what_ the solution was – for her to be the leader. "No!" she exclaimed, standing up and walking away, hands up in the air. "I am _not_ Founder material. I am not going to control all the vampires and then sign all those _stupid_ papers and make decisions and spend money and…_no_, just no! I'm not doing it!"

"My dear, you are our only hope," Myrnin said to her gently, his brown eyes full of understanding and concern.

"Why can't _you_ do it?" she asked him. "After all, you are the oldest vampire. Isn't that sort of the _point_ of being the Founder, to be the eldest? I'm not even a vampire…and _don't even think about it, Myrnin_!" she hissed, evidently seeing something in his eyes that made her think he was thinking about changing her.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he promised her, but she didn't entirely believe him. "I say we have a vote… all in favour of Claire taking power?" he suggested, raising his hand slowly as he faced her.

She begged him not too silently, but he didn't listen. As did the others, unanimously.

Even Sam.

Great, just great. She was now the Founder. Whoopee!

_Amelie's POV:_

I look down on the scenes unfolding in my town, a sense of regret and pain in my heart. Everything will be destroyed...but I don't care about that: I care about the fact that I left Sam there, alone. I succumbed to my Father in order for Sam to avoid death, and I ended up dying myself. And look, I get the best of both worlds as _Oliver_ had to die with me, so I have the pleasure of his company for eternity. Words cannot explain how much this irks me.

"I am sure everything will work out, Amelie," Oliver says dryly, looking down with me.

"Oliver, Sam is broken hearted because I left him. _Claire_ is in charge of the vampires; our entire race are subjected to her whims, which will, naturally, favour humans because Shane will be able to twist her to do things that favour them," I snap at him. "How on _earth_ that will work out is beyond me!"

"At least you didn't have the idiot Myrnin being the only one who spoke for you at your funeral," he snaps back, sighing deeply after speaking.

I smile briefly before settling back to neutrality, worry the only feeling inside of me. Worry for my town, for Sam...but mainly for Claire, and the role she has been forced to take on. I shall have to try and advise her somehow, but how?

That is a question for another day. They are departing now, so I must follow my Sam; after all, I perished for him – I don't believe that I couldn't follow him, to ensure that he doesn't do something dangerous and reckless to be with me. That would only render my actions futile, something I do not believe would be beneficial to my current mood.

**So, what did you think?**


	3. Telling The Boyfriend!

**Chapter 3:**

So Claire was now the Founder.

Not that she _wanted_ to be, or anything, not at all. When Amelie had had the job, she had never envied her – true, Claire had thought the job would be easy, only having to sign papers and such, but she had _never_ wanted to have to be in charge of the vampires. Why would she _want_ to be the controller of the bloodsuckers that caused the majority of the problems in town? Barring three vampires now, since Myrnin had recovered from the disease, she didn't like any of the others and she knew that the feeling was mutual…probably. They probably respected her more now, since she had saved them from the disease, but she was still a human and how would vampires react to having a _human_ controlling them?

"Please tell me that you're all kidding me and you're about to say jokes!" Claire begged the four people in the room, clasping her hands together. She felt the coolness of the bracelet she continued to wear upon her skin connecting with the other arm but still felt no desire to remove it: as soon as Amelie died, there was a catch that suddenly appeared in the bracelet. But to remain closer to Amelie, someone who technically died _for_ her, she left it on. She couldn't take the job of the person who used to own her! It wouldn't be right.

Sam was the first one to shake his head. For the first time in that meeting, he stood up and moved slowly towards Claire. In those slow movements, you could see just _how_ torn up he was: he was lethargic and honestly appeared as if he didn't give a damn about the world or anyone in it.

The only person he loved was Amelie and she had died.

He pulled Claire in for a hug, which shocked her most of all, but definitely the others. He, for all his vampire strength, felt so _frail_ to her, as if he was going to collapse. She realised then that he needed her to take on the role, almost to be a replacement so that he would sort of stop hurting. It was a coping mechanism she had seen before: you replace something to try and make the original disappear. Unfortunately, it usually didn't work and she doubted it would this time, either. It was a plug for a situation, something that could make things seem as if they were ok, but underneath the surface, everything was in turmoil.

"Out of this entire town, Claire, you are the only one who can run it, human _or_ vampire," he whispered into her ear, so quietly that Hannah and Richard couldn't hear. "Like it or not, you are the only one who can take on the challenges – look how you've survived so far! If you don't even want to do it for the town or Amelie, do it for me. Please, Claire, I can't loose this town…it's all I have left of her," his voice had cracked by the end, and she knew he could barely hold back the tears. Myrnin was very deliberately looking in another direction and was humming, whilst Hannah and Richard waited for a decision from Claire.

She pulled back from the hug and hesitated, Sam's words running through her mind. What should she do? After all, she thought she would fail at it so why bother, but what Sam said would make her feel guilty if she gave up without trying. It would be an insult to Amelie's memory to do so.

She turned hesitantly to look at Myrnin, who stopped humming instantly to look at her. "If, and I mean _if,_ I did this, would you help me? I mean, would you tell me what to do and what different things mean?" she asked him, making him break out into a huge grin – slightly premature a response, she thought.

"Of course I would, Claire," he responded instantly, almost without thinking about the answer he was giving. "Only if you accept the responsibility now," he tacked on the end lamely, evidently wanting an answer.

Sam turned to look at Claire again, his eyes lacking slightly in their sorrow and actually having a little intrigue in the situation. Hannah and Richard observed, waiting to see what Claire would say, and she hesitated again, trying to think everything through.

Finally, however, it was the eyes that made the decision for her. "Fine, I will take on the job, ok?" she made it seem almost a question, as if she really _was_ waiting for them to tell her that it was all a joke and that Amelie was actually alive… well, the last part was a little too far as Sam would _never_ have been able to pull off the dead man walking look he currently had going.

Myrnin grinned wildly, zooming across the small space between them to hug her tightly. "Careful, Myrnin, human girl here," she choked out as he began to choke her from lack of air. Instantly, he let go of her and apologised before nodding formally, recognising her position.

_This sucks_, she thought to herself as the room seemed to turn sombre and respectful… and it was all towards her.

"Gérard," Myrnin called upon the dead Founder's old bodyguard and the man suddenly popped up in the doorway. The grief he had for the death of his boss was evident in his face but nowhere near as much as Sam – if Claire ever lived to see someone else looking like him, she would be surprised.

"Yes, Myrnin?" Gérard questioned the reason for his presence until Myrnin inclined his head towards Claire.

"This is the new Founder," her ex-boss commented with a touch of pride in his voice. "And it is your job to protect her," he continued, to Claire's alarm. The vampire summoned looked shocked but accepted this, evidently having expected there be a strong chance that Claire would become the new Founder, and moved closer towards her with a new level of respect in his stance.

"No, no, _No_!" she exclaimed loudly, walking away from Myrnin and Gérard in utter defiance, unable to accept that she needed protecting by a vampire. "I do _not_ need protecting. I am _not_ Amelie, who thought she needed it even though she was the strongest vampire in town!" she continued, wincing as she mentioned Amelie for the expression that came upon Sam's face when she did.

Sam grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face him, his face angry at the way that she utterly disregarded the protection. "You _will_ take this," he hissed at her, utterly different to how he was before. "Or did you miss something? Even _with_ this, Amelie died. So unless you want to follow her down that path but just being killed by one of your _own_ kind, I would take it."

"Why would a human kill me?" she questioned, confused as to the context of this. "I mean, it's _vampires_ who hate me, not humans. Most of them don't care about me."

"And _this_ shows how naïve you are," Sam retorted sharply, his grip on her arm tightening to the point of pain. "No vampire _hates_ you, and they wouldn't dare to if you are their ruler. But you evidently missed how many assassination attempts there were on A-Amelie, because if you had have seen them, you would be demanding more protection!" he continued, stumbling on Amelie's name which was the only thing that showed him not being as he was normally.

Claire, on the other hand, had never felt so weak and defenceless. After all, had she _really_ just taken on a job which had a high probability of death? But she couldn't rescind it now without at least attempting to do it…so she had to carry on.

"Fine, Gérard but nobody else," she argued back, exerting her power as Founder for the first time. There wasn't a change in temperature, like there was when Amelie or Oliver exerted their power, but who knew what to expect in the future? The power was new to her and she was unwilling to harness it. There was no knowing how she could turn out.

Perhaps she could even be better than Amelie…no…that would be impossible, right?

Gérard stepped closer to his new charge and bowed to her, making her blush deeply. She couldn't cope with having people acting like this to her!

"We're going now, if that's ok?" Richard said and, with a jolt, she realised that she was above him. She had gone from pawn in the town to the overall ruler of everything in Morganville in the space of a few seconds, and the power scared her already.

"Bye," she called, shaking slightly with the fear of what was going to happen. Who knew?

With that, Richard and Hannah almost ran out of the room; evidently, there was something going on that the three vampires and Claire couldn't feel – but what? She decided, however, that she didn't care: she had more important things to do… and she guessed that that included telling the world (well, Morganville) that she was their new leader.

"I'm going home," she announced, having realised with a gut wrenching pang that she hadn't even _discussed_ this with Shane or her friends.

"Claire, we need to work, to arrange everything – as Richard said, the town is in chaos," Myrnin contradicted her, but with a level of respect she recognised from when he had spoken to Amelie in the past.

"I am now in charge and my friends don't even know – I'm going home, Myrnin, and you can't stop me… unless _you'd_ rather be Founder?" she questioned, suddenly hopeful that he would change his mind and take over.

After a long pause, he shook his head mutely and stepped away. As soon as he had done, Claire realised that Sam still had a hold on her arm and she pulled it out as easily as possible. It was almost _too_ easy; before, she would have had to get the vampire to release her but now… she did it without Sam even realising.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Myrnin," Claire said in a subdued voice and headed towards the portal, her new _best_ buddy following in her tracks…

_~x~_

Eve dropped the spoon she was holding with a clatter as she noticed Claire returning home through the portal with a _vampire_. More than that, it was a vampire that used to guard the Founder.

"Claire, what the _hell_?" she exclaimed, moving away from the table where she was preparing the food for dinner to observe the new Founder (though she didn't know that then) with her escort. "Why do you have a _vampire_ tailing you?" she questioned, making Claire sigh. How could she explain this without making it seem as if she was forced or that it was a crummy idea?

"Where are Shane and Michael?" she asked, ignoring Eve's question.

"Shane is upstairs and Michael is in the living room – didn't you see him as you walked in?" she answered shortly, annoyed that Claire wouldn't tell her why the _hell_ there was a stalker vamp in the house. "Yo, dude, can I help you?" Eve snapped at the vampire, deciding that she could take him on in her own home without a doubt. Which was a bad idea…if it wasn't for the fact that Claire controlled him, the Founder had a _definite_ belief that Gérard would have attacked her.

"Eve, don't be rude!" Claire chastised her sharply, shaking her head at both Eve and the way that she reacted. Surely she shouldn't be changing? Unless it was just the anger and the resentment at being thrust into this new role that made her react that way… yes, that would be it. "Look, can you come into the living room with me and Gérard? I need to talk to you all and it is _really_ important," she sighed and something about her tone made Eve relax and drop the angered stance.

"Come on, CB," she pulled Claire through to the living room, which resulted in Claire having to make frantic motions to Gérard that this was normal and she wasn't being attacked. Now he was no longer Amelie's guard, she would _really_ have to teach him how a human behaved in the new world – the entirely no touching policy was Amelie's, not hers.

Within three minutes, the boys had assembled – it turned out Michael had gone upstairs to get his guitar – and Claire was ready to begin her story. Shane looked suspiciously at Gérard but didn't say anything, simply sat opposite Claire, with Michael and Eve, and waited to be told the story.

"I don't know how to say this, so I'll just come out with it," she said slowly, shutting her eyes and pressing her hands together. "Richard resigned as overall ruler dude thing and… I'm the new Founder," she burst out with it, leaving the room silent as she did so.

Finally, after a long pause, Shane laughed. It was as if he didn't believe her, but she had to admit, it was pretty ludicrous. She was a _human_: why would she be in charge of every vampire in the world? "Claire, that was a good one: I suppose Myrnin loaned you that one to help make it more plausible?" he laughed at her, inclining his head towards Gérard, making her cheeks turn bright red – did he not believe she could be powerful enough to have control of the town?

Before she could react, Gérard did. He growled deeply at the three of them sitting on the sofa, so feral that even Michael flinched backwards. "I am _not_ Myrnin's pet, you little idiot," he snarled at them, his fangs sliding down as he stepped in front of Claire to 'protect' her. _Seriously_, she thought, _he _really_ needs to come into the 21__st__ century version of bodyguarding! _"I am the bodyguard of the Founder and you should show respect."

This last sentence got the attention of all three of them again, as they realised that she _was_ telling the truth and that it wasn't a joke.

"Y-you… _you're_ the new Amelie?" Eve confirmed, stuttering as she showed her disbelief. Claire moved around Gérard and nodded slowly, her head bowed as she faced her friend. "Jeez, Claire, you're not going to be able to cope," she continued, disgusted.

"I didn't have a choice – it was that or… or Morganville would be disbanded," Claire cried out, and this alone made Shane and Eve give her a dirty look.

"And that would be a _bad_ thing?" Shane rhetorically asked her, shocked that she took the path she did. "What has _happened_ to you, Claire? I know you like the bloodsuckers but this is taking it too far, for _you_ to be our jailor here?" he snapped at her, startling her more than she thought would be possible. She had never considered that he would be _this_ angry.

Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she processed what was going on: her friends, her _boyfriend_, hated her for giving up being one of them and taking the most important job in the town. "I couldn't say no, Shane! If Morganville fell apart, then Amelie would have died for nothing! I couldn't let Sam know that she died for him, for _all_ of us whether you accept that or not, and then everyone left. That wouldn't be right," she explained her reasoning for taking the job which made her millions of times more important than all of them put together.

Shane shook his head and stood up, his expression still utter disgust for her. "I don't know why you did it but you did it anyway, without even speaking to us. Face it, Claire, you prefer the vamps to the humans." and with that, he walked away and ignored her calls after him.

She turned back to Eve, who ignored her as she walked out of the living room and back to the kitchen, where the sounds of food being thrown in the bin clanged in Claire's ears. This left Michael, the one who was yet to even speak. "Do you hate me, too?" she whispered to him as she stood there, alone. Gérard melted into the background, as he was supposed to, now that the possible danger was over, as Michael stood up, a shocked expression on his face.

"I couldn't hate you, Claire; not only did you save us all, but you saved Sam," he said, smiling slightly. "They don't hate you either, they just can't see why you did it…but I can. Honestly, Claire, everything will be fine," he pressed and moved closer to her to give her a hug.

She relaxed slightly but the tears began to spill down her cheeks. After a few minutes, she pulled away and gave him a half smile before heading up the stairs to her room. Shane's room, as she expected, was firmly shut with a 'Do not disturb' sign hanging on the doorknob – childish, but it did the job. So she walked past this with a heavy heart and opened the door to her room, expecting some massive change to have happened since she turned into the Founder. In fact, it was just the exact same as it was before – the one constant thing in her life…her room. That was the sad thing, she reflected, as she curled up on her bed and began to sob her heart out.

She was the Founder now; she had the control of the town. She could do anything she wanted to… but what _did_ she want to do?

And did she _really_ want it?


	4. Stories

**Chapter 4:**

"I don't know what to _do_!" she moaned, pressing her head into her hands as she sat in the office that used to belong to Amelie. Piles of paperwork littered the desk, all remnants of the last week of power Amelie had before the Welcome Feast that was the beginning of the Apocalypse for Morganville. Everything was _just so complicated_! Claire had absolutely no idea what to do, what on earth was going on, and Myrnin didn't seem to be doing the best job at explaining either… especially since he had disappeared to 'deal with Ada'. Apparently she was confused since Amelie and Oliver had died as to who was supposed to be allowed to use the portals…

… that was another issue for Claire. She didn't really understand Ada or anything other than the basics of what she did: she kept a forcefield around Morganville to stop anyone without permission from Claire leaving; she put a conditioning power on those who _were_ allowed to leave as well as controlling the portal systems. Whatever else she can do, Claire didn't have a _clue_, and it didn't seem as if anybody was inclined to explain it to her.

Gérard stepped forwards from his position in the corner, the place where he had been standing for three hours without fail, each time Claire offered him a seat declining it politely. She supposed that she could make it an order to do it but she didn't want to give _anyone_ an order. She had been in the job for three days now officially, though no announcements were yet to be made to the residents of Morganville, and though Myrnin had _promised_ to teach her what to do, he hadn't come through on that promise.

"Founder," Gérard said her title with a sense of utmost respect, as if he truly didn't care that she was a human ordering around his race – she was simply his boss. So she looked up at him, angered by his use of this title. That was _Amelie's_: she may have been the replacement Amelie but she most certainly was _not_ Amelie… the entire cracking up thing already sort of proved that.

"It's _Claire,_ Gérard, remember?" Claire argued back, rolling her eyes as she lifted her head to look at the huge vampire with the most emotion she had shown in days. Shane hadn't spoken to her since he accused her of caring more for vampires than for humans and Eve… Eve didn't seem to know _what_ to think. From what Michael had told Claire, he seemed to think that part of Eve's soul empathized with Claire and the way that she had to remain loyal to Amelie because she _fricking died for them_, but she agreed with what Shane thought as well… the entire idea of possibly being able to leave Morganville seemed so abstract to Eve but it was so possibly perfect that the way it had been taken from her made her resent Claire. Everything was just so _complicated_!

"Miss," Gérard compromised, evidently unable to get all the way to calling her Claire. But, Claire reflected, he called Amelie Ma'am, so this calling her Claire wasn't really a huge improvement on 'Founder'. "If I may be so bold, let me give you some advice," he paused, waiting to see whether or not he would be rebuffed for this apparently 'forward' and 'brash' movement, as he would most _certainly_ have been with Amelie.

Claire realised that he was waiting for her permission to continue, something which never happened usually; normally, her friends would say 'let me give you some advice' and then launch straight into the advice without a second's pause but Gérard actually wanted to know whether or not he would be wanted.

"Please tell me," she confirmed, her voice barely a whisper to her ears but she knew he would have no qualms with hearing it.

"You need to relax," he told her quite plainly, evidently deciding to go straight for the point rather than beating about the bush. She was actually amazed he _knew_ the word 'relax', yet the modern lingo wasn't _that_ hard to pick up. The only person who seemed immune to it was… no, she wouldn't go there again. "Miss, even… it was not picked up in a single day and you have had absolutely no training whatsoever. Myrnin promised to take you through it but he isn't here… therefore, I would prefer it if you didn't make my job harder and would simply go home," he basically told her what to do but in a way that made sense to her. If it had been Amelie, he would have probably lost his head by then but Claire was a lost little girl… he felt bad for her being thrown in at the deep end.

She blinked once, then twice, at this order before nodding and standing up, grabbing her bag from the back of the chair. "Thanks, Gérard," she said with a smile, doing as he told her to and relaxing. He nods deeply at this and bows in the same manner, entirely respectful. "Oh, but if we're gonna be working together, you _really_ need to stop doing that!" she continued, her humorous side disappearing as she noticed how he had ignored her requests once again.

"I presume your idea of a bodyguard is someone you 'hang out' with, eating pizza and more on an equal level?" he assumed how she would feel absolutely perfectly.

"Well… yeah," she shrugged, taking another step towards him because he is standing in front of the portal.

"Then that is where we have _very_ different opinions, Miss," he said in response, an almost wry smile on his face. The expression reminded her of Amelie… and it made her heart almost stop in pain. "You see, I was born in a time when servants were never addressed and the bodyguards blended into the background, never spoken to or mentioned. _This_ is already strange enough for me, so I would appreciate it if you let me do my job in the way that I was trained," he continued, requesting in the nicest possible way to stop her trying to change him.

She sighed and pressed her fingers to her forehead, unable to cope with this. She was supposed to be the _Founder_, for crying out loud, but it seemed as if everyone tried to get her to change her mind. Shane was, through the entire ignorance thing, trying to get her to just destroy Morganville so that they could all live their individual lives whilst now Gérard wanted her to let him do his job in his way.

"Compromise?" she suggested with a small smile, looking up to his face after a few moments. His facial expressions revealed a certain degree of intrigue at this suggestion and he waited for her to elaborate. "I don't interfere with your whole 'strong and silent' type thing you have going, let you stay in the shadows so to speak. _But_, you take a seat rather than standing because, let's face it, standing basically clutters the place up, and if I offer you a drink or something to eat, you take it. Deal?" she explained her idea in such a way that he _had_ to agree.

"That would be an honour," he smiled at her in a polite way before resuming his usual neutral expression (though if she was honest, it was leaning closer to scary than neutral). "Now, Miss, are we ready to return home?" he asked her and she nodded, walking towards the portal.

He followed behind her at a respectable distance, remaining that far away as they entered the living room. The inquisitive look she gave him, turning slightly, asked whether or not there was anyone home, something he soon confirmed to be negative. So she jumped over the back of the sofa and landed on the cushions with a soft plop, turning the television on for the first time in what felt like months… actually, it probably _was_ months since she had had the time to just sit there and watch television.

Unfortunately, this didn't last long. As, for the _wonderfully_ popular people of the Glass House, had a visitor to their home and as Claire was the only one in (she didn't think that Gérard would take well to being used as a butler), she had to go and answer the door.

She pulled it open to reveal a black cloaked man, the cloak bringing back the awful memories from the day at the school when Amelie and Oliver had led the troops in as they answered the blood call that Claire had sent out – with Ada's help. She couldn't see anything in that doorway besides the cloak which was _identical_ to those once, though it seemed marginally thicker than their's.

"Claire, are you alright?" Sam asked her gently, pushing her backwards into the house so that he could get out of the sun – the cloak was good but it wasn't 100% sun proof and it still hurt to be outside.

As he entered the house, he took hold of Claire's elbow to steady her, the pain frozen on her face as she realised that it was Sam underneath there. She had, for a fleeting second, thought that it was Amelie coming for her, that all hope would be returned because the _true_ Founder of the town had returned. But the moment she saw the flash of red hair made her realise that this was never going to happen.

_She_ was the Founder now and she needed to accept that.

At Sam's words, Gérard rushed across the room and lifted Claire into his arms to take her to the sofa. She awoke a little from her depressed stupor at that moment, wondering why she was being moved from the door to the sofa without any conscious realisation of commanding her muscles to implement this.

"What?" she asked, her brow furrowed as she sat upright.

"You looked as if you were going to faint," Sam told her gently, his eyes focused on her. As she turned to look at him, she realised just _how_ haunted he seemed: his eyes had huge rings around them that just weren't natural for a vampire – either he wasn't feeding as much as he ought to or just the stress had gotten to him, affecting his body physically. Or perhaps it was both… who knew? He had lost the love of his life in the flash of an eye but worse than that, she had died for him_._

"I felt like it," she admitted, sitting up and leaning against the side of the sofa, not entirely sure about the state of her strength. Gérard hovered, not entirely sure what to do with a human patient, until she smiled and he realised that there was probably nothing wrong; she had probably just gotten a shock from something.

"What was wrong?" Sam asked her gently, pulling her around to look into his eyes. Though pain was evident in them, the main emotion or feeling in them was concern for her, the worry that she could have something wrong with her the most pressing issue in this instance.

"I… I thought I saw something, but I was wrong," she confessed and he knew that she had thought he was Amelie. The pain flashed through his eyes before he controlled it, not wanting her to feel guilty for simply raising to the surface the continuing agony he went through every _second_ since Amelie had died for him.

She bit her lip, having seen exactly what Sam tried to hide from her and regretting saying a single word. But she couldn't take it back then, no matter how much she wanted to, and so settled for sitting up properly to shift her gaze from him.

"Are you ok?" he asked her gently, turning her by the shoulder to look at him once again. As she caught herself in his gaze, she realised he wasn't angry with her for bringing Amelie up, as she would have expected, but it had simply given him a steely determination to stay 'normal' and strong… for himself and for Amelie.

"Yeah, I'm… no, Sam, I'm really not," she began to lie before realising that it was futile – she was _not_ fine and if she insisted that she was then they would believe her. Then she would be in the job – which a) she didn't want and b) Myrnin was supposed to help her with – with _no_ help whatsoever and it would all be _her_ fault when it all screwed up.

He was about to ask her _what_ was wrong, when the front door opened and Shane barrelled through. Evidently, he had expected the house to be empty because he stopped dead (no pun intended) as his eyes fell on his 'girlfriend' and the grandfather of his one time best friend.

"I thought you were _working_?" he sneered the word 'working' at Claire, the girl who he was supposed to be dating.

"I was," she replied quietly, refusing to look at him as he spoke. She continued to stare at the floor, the place she began to look at as soon as Shane entered the house. "But… I don't know. I didn't want to… do you want to watch a film or something?" she asked him in the same tone of voice, her heart aching for some sense of _normality_ with Shane and her life!

But he shook his head as she turned to look at him, her eyes filling with tears as he backed away from her. "Go hang out with your vamps – two are enough, right?" he snapped at her, entirely stereotyping her as being on the vampires' side just because she had _had_ to accept a job! It was, in a way, similar to him: he had to accept the job he had because otherwise he would have been a free meal for a passing vampire as he had no importance to the town. True she had different motives, including not wanting to hurt Sam, but it was the same thing… she thought so, anyway.

So she nodded, not really seeing anything, as he walked away, holding in the tears so he couldn't see how much his rejection had hurt her. She sighed deeply and Sam half smiled at this, the most upbeat she had seen him since before Amelie had… you know.

Claire was about to speak when the portal opened and a harassed looking Myrnin stepped through. "Claire, I thought you were working," he narrowed his eyes as he looked at the perfectly normal human teenage girl on the sofa.

"I thought _I_ was the… boss, so _I_ chose when I work?" she asked rhetorically, her voice sticking as she almost called herself 'Founder'. "And anyway, Myrnin, I am pissed off with you! You were supposed to be helping me with this but for _three_ days you have just let me get deeper and deeper into mud, unable to understand!" she cried at him, standing up and dodging Sam's legs to move in front of Myrnin.

To oppose a vampire scared her like crazy and her heartbeat displayed this fear, pumping much more erratically as her breathing increased. Yet she continued to stare at Myrnin in the face, trying to make her face more stubborn than his admittedly Oscar winning performance he was putting on. However, finally, he gave in and bowed down to her, accepting that she was right and he was wrong.

"My Claire, I _do_ apologise," he said in a tone that was filled with respect – respect that she could tell instantly was real. He hadn't tried to be sarcastic, he was truly acknowledging the power she had without qualm… which was a good job, since _he_ was the one who put her forwards for this job! "I have been busy recently, with sorting various things out that I doubt you wish to be part of – it is rather disgusting and not something you would want to dream about," he explained, sounding as if he genuinely meant that he wanted Claire's well-being to be the top priority.

"I'm sorry for snapping," Claire sank back into her friendly disposition, her momentary outburst draining her energy slightly. She moved back to sit on the sofa, curling her legs up with her arms tucked around them before turning to look back over at Myrnin. "Can we start tomorrow, please? I'm tired and I just want to relax for today," she asked politely, still not grasping the concept that they were all trying to explain. _She_ was the most powerful of them all: whatever she wanted, so long it was feasible, she got.

"Yes, Claire, we can," Myrnin responded, moving across to sit on the other sofa across from her. Of course he would sit down and not wait for instructions: he was her friend and he had been Amelie's – he behaved as a normal friend would do to her – as well as the fact that he was training her up. "But for now, what are your plans?" he asked her gently, much in the same tone as Sam had spoken to her in before.

She hesitated, not wanting to watch a film or television because Shane had turned her down. But she didn't want to read either: she just wanted to relax and to not be able to think for a few moments. So she closed her eyes and deliberated – entirely the opposite of what she wanted to do – for a second or so before deciding.

"Will you tell me a story?" she asked quietly, opening her eyes to turn to the astonished Myrnin.

"A story?" he repeated, baffled that she could want that. From the stunned silence from both Sam and Gérard, Claire suspected that they were as shocked as Myrnin was. "Certainly, my Claire, anything in particular?" he soon settled down as if this were an every day occurrence, to be asked to tell a story.

She shut her eyes and shrugged, not bothered what the story was about so long as it distracted her. So he began…

"Once upon a time, there was a magical forest, in which an array of mythical creatures lived: unicorns, vampires, pixies, everything you could think to be mythical was there. The forest covered the majority of what we know today as the Earth, though it was called a different name then, when the continents were joined as one and everything was dissimilar to what you would see today.

"Then, one day, an angel came down from heaven, a messenger from God. Adam and Eve had failed in their populating of the world and they needed more people to breed with, otherwise the great human race would be destroyed before it had truly begun. So the angel had been sent to select the most human of the creatures in the forest and to turn them into humans.

"The ones the angel selected were, of course, the vampires: the origin of them was unknown but it turned out the idea for the human race was copied from the vampires, though alterations were made. But the angel found these creatures and decided that they would be the new humans, the ones to breed with the descendants of Adam and Eve to create new offspring to continue into the future, to the billions of people here today.

"The vampires were naturally angry at having their numbers depleted so, though the ones lucky enough to be able to see the daylight were not so unhappy. They were overjoyed they could do things that they never could before, including growing old. Yet the vampires did not like this, and they despised the way that they had to remain the same forever, drinking the blood of the slain mythical creatures.

"Jealous as they were, they decided that changing their feeding habits would be the best choice. So they followed their once friends and in the dead of night would strike, draining them of their blood. This was how the vampire and the human came to be enemies, when they were once friends," Myrnin finished his story, the point of which was unclear, with a bang, Claire's eyelids jumping backwards as silence reigned.

She was aware of everything around her in that moment, aware of every single sound she made, and sighed as she opened her eyes.

"What did you tell her that for?" Sam demanded angrily of Myrnin, his red hair reflecting his temper for once.

"She asked for a story and it was the happiest one I could think of," he retorted back, sticking his hands in his pockets with a grin. "After all, it had God and the evolution of species in it, what more could you want?" he continued, though he never believed in God.

"I don't believe in God, you moron," Claire answered back quietly, her voice barely there as her head span with the information from the story that _had_ to be false. The entire God story didn't happen… science explained how the world worked and was formed, not the 'seven day' thing that others believed. "But thanks, Myrnin, you distracted me," she was polite, as ever, in her thanking for the story, smiling as she sat up.

"Not a problem, my dear," Myrnin responded with a smile also, about to continue when Michael burst through the front door with the most harried expression Claire had ever seen him wear.

"Michael, what's wrong?" she asked in alarm, moving to stand up and look him in the face. The worry was ever more evident in his eyes, the panicked way that they moved across the room and analysed everything frantic with fear.

"Look at this," he said, handing her the copy of the 'fang report', ran by a new Captain Obvious though he seemed to simply report the news rather than act, in a slightly charred hand.

Claire winced as she noticed the black on his hand but he shrugged it off, watching as his body repaired itself naturally: like a human but about a thousand times faster. Her eyes dropped to the front cover of the furled up newspaper, her breath drawing in as she read the words…

**NEW FOUNDER IN TOWN**

_After the death of Amelie, many of us had been wondering just _who_ would take over as the chief of the town. Whilst Mayor Morrell may have _begun_ as the overall leader, many of us knew that it would not last and he reportedly quit three days ago._

_So just_ who_ is our new 'Founder'? you would think that the vampires would want to get out of this hellhole as much as us, but apparently not… or rather, _one of us_ would want to hold us hostage here for as long as she lives:_

_Claire Danvers._

_The seventeen year old hails from out of Morganville and she managed to get herself in deep with the old Founder. Reports from sources are suggesting that Claire _wanted_ this and begged Morrell to give her the job, to fulfil her power thirst. After all, look: she wanted to find the book, she joined Bishop's side and she _had_ to kill him._

_We're going to find out in the coming days or weeks, folks, whether or not this vamp lover is faithful to her own race or whether the leeches she apparently adores will be her forte._

_Captain Obvious signing out for another day. just remember, if you see this girl, she is the most important person in Morganville to the vampires._

_But is she to us?_

Horrified as she reached the end of the report, she dropped the paper to the sofa as tears began to spill from her eyes.

"Who told them?" she asked nobody in particular as Sam grabbed the paper to find out what the hell was going on. Michael shrugged his shoulders and she knew he didn't have a clue what imbecile had told the humans that Claire had betrayed them and joined the vampires to lead them all.

"What the-?" Sam trailed off as he read the article, about halfway through at the bit where it suggested Claire had offed Amelie.

"Sam, Sam, I didn't _want_ the power or anything – I didn't _ever_ want to do anything to Amelie or anyone," she blurted out of her mouth as he turned to look at her, his face angry. But he calmed down as he realised she had misinterpreted his feelings of anger towards Captain Obvious mark two as being towards herself.

"I am mad at him for making that up, not you: the struggle we had to get you to take the job pretty much assures me that it is all codswallop," he smiled slightly at her, but the anger remained burning in his eyes like flames, entirely obvious for them all to see.

She shuddered but nodded, sinking down onto the sofa in shock. "I can't believe they know. I mean _who_ would do such a thing as to tell them… or how would they find out? I haven't been anywhere for them to!" she exclaimed, burying her face in her hands as the tears began to fall thick and fast down her cheeks.

The room fell silent as they tried to think this through, Gérard included for his opinion was valued much more than he perhaps considered it to be. Michael considered everyone who knew whilst Myrnin planned on how to kill this person at the same time as Sam pined for Amelie and regretted, once again, her death.

This meant that none of them processed the entering human from the kitchen; the one that they ought to have realised was there.

"It was me."


	5. Moving

_Chapter 5:_

They all turned around to face Shane Collins, the one who had masterminded this newspaper article. _He_, the boyfriend of Claire, had decided to inform the town that she was the new Founder, that she was the one who was trapping them there now.

The breath escaped her as she leaned back on the sofa, unable to believe that _her_ Shane had done this to her. He had shipped her to the papers so that everyone in the damned town would soon hate her, if they already didn't.

She couldn't speak, the shock was that great to her. However, the same principle didn't apply to three of the four vampires in the room, who all moved closer to the defiant boy standing almost in the doorway. The only one who didn't move was Sam, who sank down on the sofa next to Claire, evidently unable to believe it as she was.

"_Why_ would you do that to your girlfriend, Shane?" Michael snapped at his best friend, who didn't shrink back whatsoever that three vampires, all so much stronger than himself, were towering over him.

"Yes, _do_ explain your rather twisted logic as to this," Myrnin said, his voice dangerously soft and sweet, as if he was sugar coating the anger inside of him. Meanwhile, Gérard simply stood there in his capacity as bodyguard to Claire, the Founder, not saying a word but his presence speaking volumes.

Shane stepped back slightly, into the handy patch of sunlight though he knew it would only halt Michael and even then, he would most likely follow him to get him back for hurting Claire.

"I did it because the town needed to know _who_ the new person is keeping them here," he retorted sharply, his eyes casting over Claire's delicate frame all curled up. She couldn't believe that _Shane_ would do this to her: she was expecting it to have been Monica because Richard had accidentally leaked the news to her but not _her Shane_.

Michael shook his head and snarled at Shane, his anger showing most evidently on his face. "You don't do it like that, Shane. Sure you're pissed that Claire decided that to accept the job but you could have at least _spoken_ to us before you acted."

Shaking, Claire stood up and everyone's attention went to her. The three standing vampires moved back slightly and their positions weakened, as showing their respect for her, which still surprised her. She was so used to vampires bossing her around and showing off their strength that having them react this way was alien, foreign almost. They all averted their eyes from her after a moment besides for Shane, who continued to stare adamantly in her direction.

Furiously, she wiped the tears from her eyes so that she could see his face clearly, wondering why he didn't have _any_ regret for his actions whatsoever. He didn't seem bothered that he had _destroyed her life_, only thinking that he was right.

"Shane, _why_ would you do this to me?" she asked him quietly, almost inaudibly. He could have pretended not to hear but to do that would be worse… then again, _could_ things get worse? "Why did you do that? You ruined my _life_; how am I going to be able to go out now?" she continued, fresh tears rushing in to replace the displaced ones. Soon, sobs were erupting from her chest but nobody knew what to do: Shane was still standing there; Gérard wouldn't do anything because, _hello_, he worked for Amelie before and PDA was_ not_ one of her strong points; Myrnin was staring Shane down and Michael… well, Michael was barely able to control himself from launching over the sofa and attacking the idiot.

Just as Sam was about to stand up and comfort her, Shane responded, "_I_ ruin your life? Claire, you did that the moment you accepted the chance to rule the damned town! You wouldn't be able to go out anyway, you're just going to stay holed up and making decisions that are good for the vampires but not for us. As far as I am concerned, you stopped being _my_ Claire the second you came home with _that_," he pointed to Gérard, whose eyebrows rose at being called a 'that'.

"Speak to her like that again and it _will_ be the last thing you do, whether she wants it or not," Gérard responds sharply, finally taking control of the situation as a good bodyguard ought to do. The vampires muttered (or in Myrnin's case, yelled) in agreement whilst Claire just blocked everything out, unable to believe whatsoever that _her_ Shane had abandoned her for something like this.

Everything seemed to dull at the same time: Shane slamming the door on his way out of the house; the sudden turning of the men in the house to focus on her; the way that she couldn't focus on anything…

Then she fell back and everything was black

…

"Easy does it," Sam murmured as she sat upright suddenly and her head spun like _crazy_. all this meant was that she collapsed back onto the pillows in… where _was_ she? Her eyes raked the room but she found nothing out about her location besides for the fact that she _definitely_ wasn't in the Glass House and that the person who lived here was extraordinarily tidy. This also ruled out Myrnin then, because the last time she had seen the lab it was covered in a thick layer of debris left over form the destruction caused by Bishop at the beginning of the war.

"W-where _am_ I?" she asked with a frog in her throat. She ached all over and she had no idea why: the last thing she remembered was watching with despair as Shane left the house. Something to her felt as if it was late, that she had been unconscious for at least half the day.

"I brought you back to my flat…there were _disturbances_ at your house and you were asleep," he said tactfully, causing her heart to fall. "You've been asleep for about ten hours. None of us wanted to wake you."

"Let me guess, humans found out that I was there and tried to burn the house down with us all in it?" she sighed, shutting her eyes to try and escape the reality that was her life. It seemed so _laughable_, not only do vampires exist but she was now their leader!

"You're not far wrong there, Claire," Sam responded quietly, no joking in his tone. "I think something needs to be done – and soon – as Richard can only sort things for so long…" he continued, causing her to groan.

"Perhaps I ought to just give up," she said slowly, her eyes shutting over again. "I mean, people didn't care when _Richard_ had all the power – maybe if I give it up, they will stop trying to kill me?" but she didn't sound convinced, even in her own plan. After all, giving up the power that she had with the vamps wouldn't make her own kind like her anymore – she'd still be a turncoat for accepting the job in the first place.

Carefully, Sam wiped the tear away from her cheek and waited for her to calm down before answering. "That won't make a difference, Claire. I'm sorry but you need to get on with your job and show them why you were the _only_ choice for the job," he told her quietly, by the end his voice cracking. She realised, with a pang, that she was basically making him say here that she was the best replacement Amelie, something which must have been ridiculously hard for him since she had been dead a matter of weeks.

She sat up slowly on the sofa in the plain living room. There was absolutely nothing that needn't be here, no clutter or ornaments. There was literally a sofa, television and a bookcase… oh and a desk with a computer, but that was it.

He notices her looking around and smiled with a distinct wryness to it. "Yes, I don't need much. Before you say anything, I am content with this: I don't want you to redecorate or get me anything because it would look stupid," he said, pre-empting her words with a certain uncanniness. It hit her with a jolt after a second, a sudden sickness to her stomach, that Amelie must have asked him this when she had been over before.

He evidently realised at the same time and Claire noticed how his face contorted with the pain of losing his love. There wasn't even a hint of it fading: she knew that, unless he found a replacement, he would live with it forever. He had lost two women, both the ones he loved, and he had been left. Amelie was the one who got him through his wife's death – she supposed that she would, as a friend, get him through this. God only knew she needed the distraction and the help with the workload.

"Where's Myrnin?" Claire asked quietly, trying desperately to find something to talk about that wouldn't hurt either of them. Unfortunately, that limited the topics to… Myrnin. Not a single other thing was possible to be discussed, she didn't think, that didn't link back to Amelie or Shane or even _Oliver_. After all, it was pretty obvious that Oliver was in love with Amelie, so mentioning anything to do with Oliver would spark remembrance of that love he had for Amelie, which thus surged the love for Amelie back again.

Sam seemed as if he was relieved the topic of conversation had changed, giving him a chance to put up a shield around his shattered heart, smiling slightly. "He's in the other room, preparing a meal for you… however, I wouldn't trust whatever concoction he has made because I remember him asking whether or not the chicken ought to be black," he explained to the girl who still seemed dazed as to what had gone on. Her boyfriend had told the town she was the new Amelie, she had passed out, it turned out the townspeople were trying to kill her and she was in Sam's flat. Oh, let's not forget the biggie: she had to take around a damned _bodyguard_ everywhere with her. That's the worst part of being the damned Founder: never being alone again.

She shuddered slightly at the mention of chicken being black before swinging her legs around to be sitting properly on the sofa. Instantly, Sam cleared away the blanket and pillow, throwing them with an uncanny accuracy through the open door into what Claire assumed was his room… well, it wouldn't be hard for a vampire to have a good aim now, would it?

"Claire, m'dear, you're awake!" Myrnin's cheerful voice came through from the kitchen before his physical appearance followed. In his hands was a plate covered in charred bits of food, as well as what appeared to be supernoodles both undercooked and burned at the same time.

"No, I just decided to sit upright as a sleepwalker because I wanted to trick you all," she snapped back, sarcasm the only current in her voice. She couldn't be bothered with stupid questions or statements at the time: after all, with everything going on, she only wanted answers.

"Well, there wasn't _any_ need for that," Myrnin responded, affronted and hurt by her outburst.

Normally, she would have to calm him down and tell him she was sorry for speaking like that to him. But, she reflected, one bonus to being in a higher state of power than him was that _she_ was in control, not him, so it didn't matter what she said to him – he couldn't react.

"Shut up, Myrnin," she rolled her eyes at him before standing up fully. Turning around, she looked with disdain at the plate of burned food, realising that he _had_ made an effort. Instantly, the guilt rolled back into her and she reverted from showing any backbone (or true leadership skills) and back to her usual Claire self. "Sorry, Myrnin, I didn't mean to snap. What's that?" she said to him quietly, her eyes showing just how sorry she was.

His hurt expression faded into neutrality as he realised he couldn't answer back just how he used to. No… that hurt her because she didn't _want_ anything to change just because she had a new job! She wanted everything to be the same. But as soon as she had accepted, every single one of the vampires in the room (and even Richard and Hannah, to some extent) had turned respectful towards her.

"Come on, let's go grab something from the takeaway," she suggested, putting the plate that was in Myrnin's hands on the table with a soft thud.

"Miss, that isn't a good idea," Gérard said to her softly, appearing from the corner of the room as she headed towards the door. She turned, stunned that he was here, before realising that he had simply been doing his job, working in the background. Nobody was supposed to know of his existence unless there was trouble with something or other. This thought saddened Claire: he had to live in the shadows whilst she was thrust into the spotlight, gaining no recognition for what he did every single day.

"Why?" she asked, having forgotten the whole 'let's all go kill Claire' plan. "Wait, oh… yeah, I guess that that wouldn't be a good idea," she said, dejected. Her shoulders slumped as she realised she had to live in the shadows, at least until she could clear with the town that she was planning on doing everything possible that she could do for the humans. Whilst Myrnin may _want_ her to change, she wasn't going to do anything that would make her rescind the promise she made to herself the other day: if she had this job, she would make humans and vampires equal… or at least, more equal than now. After all, if a human was in charge of the town, it showed that… well it didn't really show anything, since they only chose her because there was no other viable candidate. But she could dream, right?

"It's alright, I make a mean pasta," Sam said with a fake smile, trying to get her to relax and realise that everything was ok… even though it wasn't.

She shook her head and smiled a small, albeit extremely sad, smile. "Nahh, I'm not hungry anymore. Myrnin, since you're evidently not doing whatever you've been doing for the past three days and I'm no longer tired, do you want to start teaching me what you are going to teach me?" she suggested with a smile, wanting to find a way to distract herself. Hell, the only thing she wanted was to get out of this flat… it seemed too perfect, too sterile. And that reminder of perfection only brought back the absolute _model_ of perfection that she was trying to live up to.

In fact, the only _non_ perfect thing Amelie did was, well, die…

He nodded and smiled, motioning to the portal. "Yes, my dear. And I promise not to tell you anymore silly stories," he said, waiting for her to walk towards the portal before following himself. Behind him, Gérard also followed, in his capacity as official bodyguard. Claire supposed that she was _probably_ ought to have more (Am…_she_ had at least two or three) but was happy it was only Gérard, the one she knew. If she had to put up with _more_ new vampires that she probably had never seen before to be with her 24/7, the job would probably have been hers for about three seconds. Also, the fact she was human probably didn't register much either – though she may be the boss, Myrnin _certainly_ didn't value human lives… and she doubted even hers was much further up the survival list than a regular human.

"I _liked_ the story," she argued back, walking into her new office and sitting down at the desk. Myrnin sat next to her, drawing up one of the chairs, whilst Gérard moved to stand in the corner like the good bodyguard he was… but he did as Claire had requested and sat down as he observed.

"Now, my little one, are you ready to learn?" he asked her with a smile, pulling one of the stacks of paperwork closer to him…


	6. Debate

_Chapter 6:_

"That's it?" Claire asked, stunned that the 'massive and _hugely_ important' information Myrnin had to teach her was this…

… having a decent signature. Of course, it would be something as stupid as that; of _course_ Myrnin would deem having a signature befitting of a ruler to be the greatest thing that he could ever _possibly_ teach her. It wasn't anything that could _help_ her rule, to make decisions which would impact positively on one community but most likely negatively on another, no…it was a signature. Something someone wouldn't pay the _slightest_ bit of attention to. Just a signature, the least important part of whatever she had to be signing.

"What do you mean, that's it?" Myrnin retorted sharply, pleased to be in an advising role to Claire because it basically meant that he could be any way to her: she was his student, so it gave him the 'right' to speak like he would do normally to her. Claire didn't really mind; she _wanted_ this, this normality to remind her that she was just a normal seventeen year old girl. "I thought you wanted to learn more about what you're going to be doing," he continued in a steady tone.

"I do, I do," she replied hurriedly to try and avoid the temper tantrum she knew was going to follow. "It's just… I thought I would be learning _more_ than just how to… have a good signature!"

He looked affronted, as if she had personally insulted _him_ and not just his teaching, before standing up.

"Having a good signature is key to being a good leader, little Claire, that's the thing that makes entire _countries_ work," he said to her in an almost patronising tone, heading towards the portal.

"Hey, where are you going?" she called after him, standing up. As soon as it became apparent that she may be planning on leaving the room, Gérard stood up and moved out of the corner until Claire waved him back to show she wasn't planning on leaving.

"Home," Myrnin responded with no emotion in his tone. "All you have to do is read those reports now… Sam said he shall '_text'_ you when it is safe for you to return home so until then stay here. Order a pizza… I don't care. But I know that _I_ am going home," he continued, putting air quotes into his voice as he discussed texts because he _still_ didn't understand them.

"Fine… you're… you're _arrested_!" Claire childishly called after him as he stepped through the portal. "I'm serious, Myrnin, if you don't come back here _right_ now, I will get Gérard to come after you!" she continued, anger evident in her tone. But there was something there that told him that she was joking, that she wouldn't _really_ send her bodyguard after him.

Gérard cleared his throat and she knew that he wanted to make a point. "Miss, I have to stay and protect you, so I cannot go after him," he said, entirely going against what she had said.

"Hah!" Myrnin called through the still open portal. "See, Claire, you may be in charge but you can't get me!" he continued, causing her to roll her eyes.

"I believe that you could have the guard outside of this room into the lab in mere seconds," Gérard said to Claire with a smile, wondering what Myrnin would do to this.

However, she shook her head and smiled slightly herself, settling back down in the chair. "Leave him… I can't be bothered with his moods; sometimes, he's worse than a child," she continued, picking up a piece of paper to read.

"I _heard_ that," Myrnin's petulant voice came back through from his lab, causing both the strong and silent vampire and Claire to smile even wider in tandem.

"You were supposed to," Claire responded, throwing one of the paperweights on the desk across the room to slam the portal door shut.

"Miss, I would have shut the door if you would have only asked," Gérard said reproachfully, sitting back down in the corner.

"I am _perfectly_ capable of shutting the door, Gérard, I just… I never threw anything at a door before, so I wanted to try it," she half laughed at the fact that she had never done anything as wild as throwing a paperweight at the door; her parents had…

… her parents…

"Shit," she cursed loudly, shooting to her feet and scrabbling around in her bag. "Shit, shit, _shit_… my parents, I forget _entirely_ about them!" she explained her random cursing to Gérard, who moved out of the corner to help her find her phone in her bag.

"I take it that you are regarding this," he swept his hand around the room, symbolising her new job.

She raised her eyebrows and shot a look at him of disbelief. "No, Gérard, I am gonna go talk to them about how unfair it is that they didn't let me eat Ben and Jerry's when I was younger… of _course_ it's about this," she snapped at him, before instantly feeling guilty. The friendly side of her _always_ regretted saying anything like this, so she instantly apologised. "Gérard, I'm sorry… I didn't mean it," she apologised to him but he simply nodded his head.

"I didn't mean to offend," he, for some strange reason to her, was apologising. "However, Miss, you are not allowed to leave this area: Myrnin said-" he began to protest until she cut him off.

"Myrnin can shut the hell up and stop trying to dictate if he isn't going to be here," she exploded at him, the regret for this building instantly. "Ok… fine, I'll go later. Only if you share a large pizza and chips with me – 'kay?" she compromised with Gérard after he gave her a long stare.

"Fine," he responded after a pause, evidently remembering back to when she told him she would make him eat and drink if she offered him it. "I don't care about the topping though, so get whatever you wish," he continued, sitting back down in the corner.

She dug out her phone before realising she didn't know who to call. Sure she knew the number of the local pizza joint, but would they want to come and serve _her_, a traitor to the human race in Morganville? Would they allow her to have something as simple as a pizza when she is now the one who keeps them locked here?

She decided that it would be better to have it delivered to the City Hall and that she could send someone to pick it up: after all, Gérard insisted that he would do anything for her, including shutting the door, so why wouldn't he go and pick up a pizza for her? But what name to give?

Then it hit her. She could use the new online pizza shop that the Morganville residents had insisted that they had wanted: Bishop saw no problems in giving them what they wanted because it hadn't hampered with his plans for the destruction of Morganville, and the online shop meant that you didn't have to be near a phone if you were hiding out in your house, so people had flocked to it with relish, utterly ecstatic that they were able to order pizza _online_.

She swung herself round in the chair to be facing the other way on the desk which seemed to have almost another side to it, and found the desktop computer Amelie had. There wasn't a password because who would _dare_ to break into the Founder's home? Also, Claire suspected with a wry pang of pain, she doubted that Amelie would know _how_ to set up a password – and why would she need to? She had preferred to do most of her work by hand, only using a computer sparingly, so why bother password protecting something that doesn't contain anything of importance? It was helpful that she hadn't because if she had, she would now be sitting there as the new Founder with absolutely _no_ way of getting into the computer.

Quickly, she logged onto the only online pizza shop available in Morganville, Gérard eyeing her with a strange expression on his face pretty much saying what the _fuck_ is she doing, before ordering a margarita pizza (large of course) and a large chips with extra chip spice. Then she dug in her purse for the $15.45 she needed for the pizza and chips before placing her order under the name 'Green' to go to City Hall.

"Gérard, will you go get this from City Hall?" Claire asked with small smile. "Priddy pwease?" she continued in a baby voice, remembering how everyone seemed so much more likely to do something for her if she did that. It didn't work in the war, however… because when Bishop took over, that technically _was_ war, wasn't it? Because there was an underground mutiny going on that ended up being not so underground.

He stood up and nodded sharply. "Since I am the only one of your new staff you know, I am willing to go this time," he agreed, his voice barely respectful enough to balance out the shock at being asked to do something like this. "But, Miss, generally you would ask one of you servants to do this," he continued, expecting her to have realised that she has servants now.

She spluttered more than anyone could possibly imagine, so much so that Gérard half expected her to be having a stroke or something similar. "I… I don't _need_ servants," she finally recovered enough to be able to respond to Gérard, albeit stammering, and shocked that she could be expected to have servants.

"To run this home, to run your life Miss, you _need_ them," Gérard said to her, taking the money from on top of the table. "You wouldn't be able to cope."

She narrowed her eyes at him, knowing that he thought that she was moving in here. "Wrong, Gérard, I am _not_ moving into this house so I do _not_ need to lock people into working for me when _I don't need them_!" she exploded at him, overreacting entirely but not caring because she is the one in control.

He, as he seemed to do all the time, raised an eyebrow at Claire but didn't respond which only made her madder. "Jeez, _you can talk!_ I swear, if I don't start to get my _own_ way around here, _when I am supposed to be in control_, I am going to get _real_ mad," she continued, screaming by the end of it.

At that moment, Sam burst through the portal door, wondering what the hell was going on with Claire. "Is everything ok?" he confirmed, realising Claire looked as if she was going to kill her bodyguard, who didn't seem particularly pleased with his stead at that moment.

She looked away from Gérard for a minute, anger blazing in her eyes, and locked gazes with Sam. For a second, she remained still, calming slightly, before the anger overtook the small part of control in her body and she was back to being angry… probably more so than before, if that were possible.

"_He_," she pointed in Gérard's direction with a scowl, "expects me to _live_ here… and have _servants_! Sorry, Sam, but that was _never_ going to happen and you bloody well know it so if you try and tell me I need them, I will scream," she continued, her voice shaking with unshed tears by the end of it.

Suddenly, Sam was in front of her, blocking Gérard from her sight and motioning for him to leave the room to fetch the pizza, something he wasn't too sad to be doing, if he was honest. Meanwhile, Sam put his arm around the girl who was, by then, crying as she was unable to accept what she had just said.

"I didn't mean it!" she exclaimed sadly, over and over again as Sam held her close, feeling her heartbeat pumping erratically against his chest. To someone lesser, his self control over his growing hunger wouldn't be able to be helped, even though he was the second youngest vampire, but he couldn't hurt his precious Claire. She, no matter how tangible the link was, was the last remaining link to Amelie: without her, Amelie would be gone, nothing more than a body buried in a graveyard – someone may happen across it in a century or two if there was no Claire, no Morganville, but they would _never_ know the sacrifice Amelie had made for the town, for him. She may be smaller, more fragile, human, more malleable in a way, but Claire was the exact model of Amelie… she just didn't know it yet.

"Claire, he knows you're just stressed out: he doesn't hate you," he decided to address the next issue he knew would be out of her mouth: that Gérard hates her and no longer wishes to work with her. "Believe me… Am…I have seen people say _far_ worse things to him than that and he continued to work for them… just take more pizza and he will forgive you," he laughed, causing her to smile wanly.

"Ok, then, only if you have some as well, since I _did_ decline your world famous pasta," she smiled slightly, moving away from the desk with Sam. "But Sam, do I _have_ to live here? Or even _work_ here? I don't like it… it's too… _perfect_," she wrinkled her nose up and he laughed without emotion, mussing her hair up.

"I know what you mean," he said after a long pause. "But honey, you have to. I suppose, if everything dies down at home for you, you could live with Michael and Eve but you have to work here," he continued, grimness his middle name almost.

She sighed, knowing if Sam was saying this, it had to be true. "And I have to stay _here_?" she questioned further.

He took his time in answering, wondering how to phrase it. He didn't want her staying here if she didn't want to, submerged in the many painful memories caused by Amelie's passing and the entire way _she_ was imprinted on this house. But he didn't want her in any danger whatsoever.

Then he found a compromise. "If you _really_ don't want to stay here, and Gérard has no objection, you can stay at either mine or Myrnin's… for a bit, at least," he tacked on the end, remembering how they both lived in one bedroomed 'bachelor' pads and how they couldn't accommodate a girl full time for many reasons, some more primitive than others.

She grinned then, happy for the first time since she found out the 'uber' important learning she had to do was learn how to have a proper signature, just as Gérard returned with the pizza. "Jeez, that was quick!" she exclaimed with a smile, utterly different to how she had been when he had left.

With a surreptitious look at Sam, Gérard nonverbally communicated with him; _you can't be disrespectful if you're not talking_, he argued to himself.

"What's going on with her?" he mouthed to the redhead who shrugged as the girl they were discussing milled around, managing to find plates in the office (Amelie would have killed her: they were limited edition fine bone china plates from the early 19th century… _not_ for greasy pizza and chips – extra chip spice – to be put on) to distribute the food onto.

"Dunno… hormones, I guess," Sam answered with a blush, causing both of them to turn as beet red as a vampire can: which, surprisingly to some, is almost the same amount as a human can blush.

"Here you are," Claire said suddenly, turning around with two plates heaped with food and proceeded to hand one to Gérard and one to Sam. They both took them, amazed at the amount of food she thought they would _want_ to eat, before they both looked at her more normal sized portion. "Man, Morganville _really_ oversizes its larges! Elsewhere in this country, a large is 12", not what looks to be like 20"!" she laughed, albeit sounding more than slightly forced.

"actually, it's more along the lines of 18"," Sam contradicted with a smile, ducking Claire's attempts to ruffle his hair with ease, causing her to frown. She sat down on the floor, cross legged, whilst Sam and Gérard stood, not knowing what to do.

"Come sit on the floor… unless your old timer knees will give way doing so," she grinned, taunting him about being old… even though he was only a couple of years older than her, physically. So, Sam rose to the challenge – even though it was more descending to it since she was sat on the floor – and jumped over the desk to land perfectly on the floor next to her.

"All without dropping a chip!" he laughed for what seemed to be the first _genuine_ time since Amelie had died. Meanwhile, Gérard simply stepped around the desk and sat on the floor, a respectable distance away whilst frowning at the food. "Something up, Gérard?" Sam asked with a puzzled tone to his voice, wondering why the guard was simply staring at his food.

"What is this thing on the potato chips?" he motioned to the chip spice and Claire laughed.

"It's chip spice: try it, it's nice!" she enthused and, because she had ordered him in his mind, he did so. Instantly, he coughed and wondered what on _earth_ this disgusting taste was in his mouth, the burning sensation that hit his throat harder than bloodlust did after four days of not drinking blood.

"If you wouldn't mind, I would rather leave the potato chips," he muttered after a long pause during which the only response Sam and Claire could muster up was incessant laughter at his face as he processed the flavour of the chip spice.

"Switch pizza for chips?" Claire suggested, motioning towards her the excess of pizza on her plate. He nodded and so she swiftly grabbed two handfuls of his chips and switched for three slices of pizza? "What? You get more pizza for that many chips!" she asked why the dumbfounded shock on Gérard's face was there when she had done that.

However, she had misjudged the shock. "Miss, I wasn't referring to the switch between pizza and potato chips, I was referring to the fact that you seem quite happy to sort your own food out," he explained and she froze, suddenly unable to move. After taking a second to process what Gérard had said, Sam did the same, instantly recognising the link to Amelie.

Claire was the first to recover, taking a few moments to gather herself together before shrugging. "I never got brought up with other people, Gérard; I had my parents and as I got older, I started to do things for myself. Then when I moved into the Glass House, we took it in turns to cook and stuff… I don't need other people to do the things for me that I've been doing for years now," she said quietly, a sort of depressed tone overtaking her voice as she remembered the simple life with her parents. If she hadn't been this clever, she wouldn't have had to come to Morganville and none of this would have happened. If it wasn't for her, the book wouldn't have been found and then Bishop wouldn't have found out about it being found.

If she wasn't around, Amelie wouldn't be dead.

"We agreed, so long as you are happy with this arrangement, that Claire would be staying at my house for a few days, so that she can arrange what's going on," Sam butted in, realising that Claire wasn't able to continue. Evidently, he hadn't latched onto the whole 'if Claire didn't have brains, she would never have come' thing that she had identified, something for which she was grateful. After all, if he stopped being the sensible one, then she would have to do what _Gérard _said, and something told her that what _Gérard _wanted for her wouldn't be what she would do.

Though he didn't seem best pleased with this plan, the bodyguard didn't argue, knowing he couldn't really if this was what his mistress wanted. Although he could advise, particularly with someone so young and naïve, he couldn't direct: only she could do that. Whilst he could give more direction, more forcefulness, than he could have with Amelie, there was a respectable distance to stay away – and if she already had people to advise her, he wasn't going to try and butt in there and say that they were all wrong.

"That's settled then," Claire said with a smile, glad for this to be her first official act as Founder: deciding where she lived. All it had taken was one _majorly_ childish paddy… but she was sure that she could find many more of those if she needed them. "So, anyone know what I can do to sort out the people of this town so that they don't try and impale me on a spade?" she asked, much more serious, but Gérard _laughed_.

"Miss, you impale people on _pitchforks_ or pikes, not on spades," he explained and Sam joined in, both of them snorting at Claire's utter idiocy.

"Fine, I just don't want to be the butt of their attack: happy?" she managed to skirt around the words 'death' and 'die', because that would have been a little awkward, especially with the room that they were in.

"I can't say, Claire, it's up to you," Sam became serious all of a sudden, realising that he _can't_ do anything or say anything to help her. She had to make her own decisions… for the first time since he had first cursed the fact that Amelie had the job she so prized, the job which kept her from him, he realised that she had so much responsibility. So, of course, the guilt rose in him at that time, knowing that he had been hard on her for no reason. yet… for the first time since she had died, he didn't have to fight as hard as normal to shove the feelings beneath the surface. Strange…

She sighed and nodded, realising that she didn't have the patience or the energy to deal with it. "This is probably going to sound strange since I was asleep for like ten hours, but I feel tired," she smiled slightly, knowing that the primary thing she wanted to do was get out of this room, to get out of the reminders that _she_ was the new Amelie.

All she wanted to do was sleep, to escape this world for a little while and be able to be herself in sleep.

"I know how you feel," Sam sighed, picking her half untouched plate up off of the floor and dumping it on the desk. Gérard raised his eyebrows at this but didn't say anything: Claire knew, as soon as they had gone, he would have his precious servants in here and cleaning up the mess but she didn't care; she was getting out, for a little while at least.

"Come on then," she smiled, standing up and walking towards the door. "Gérard, I don't know what time I'll be over, but it won't be after about 10… if it _is_, will you come and make sure that we haven't been kidnapped?" she laughed and her bodyguard, although looking slightly disapproving, nodded in agreement.

Sam walked through the portal and back into his flat, having already prepared it because he had assumed that she would probably want to stay here. So the sofa had a thick blanket on it, along with a pillow, and he had braved going back to the Glass House (empty now, but he wasn't telling Claire that) to get her pyjamas and other toiletries, along with a fresh set of clothes from her wardrobe.

"Is anyone at home?" she asked as she processed the existence of her clothes and other possessions in the flat. She sat down on the sofa, on top of the blanket, and something about her mantra made him realise that she was homesick and would do absolutely anything to get back there.

"Yes, there's a fight downstairs – there was earlier, anyway," he lied fluidly, not caring about his moral soul if it meant that he could keep Claire safe for longer.

"Oh, ok then," she sighed, picking up her pyjamas and toiletry bag. "Well, I'm going to get ready for bed, so I'll be right back," she said, heading to the bathroom. As she went, Sam walked into the kitchen and wondered just _what_ had happened in their lives to have gotten here.

_Amelie's POV – yes, she returns, once again!_

I sighed as I sat there on the edge of 'heaven', looking down on my Morganville, but most importantly on Claire and Sam. I could see that she faced the indecision as to what to do, the struggle as how she could get her people back on side with her. Finally, I thought wryly, she knew how hard it was for me to make a decision that suited my people but also suited the humans. For the only things she could do to get her humans onside would incur most likely devastating results on my own… yet there is much she could do that wouldn't have as much of an impact.

Yet I could see she was hurting. She tried to not show it to anyone, but I could see that she was torn up about the fact that her Shane – I always knew he was a piece of absolute rubbish – could betray her in such a way. Finally, she knew that people weren't as trustworthy as they may appear.

I was glad that she had Gérard – who knew a great deal more about the runnings of the town than he would care to admit, I believe – and Myrnin, but most of all Sam. If anyone could help her through this, it was him. He was my rock more than he knew… I just wish that he did know how much he helped me.

"Amelie, come and stop fretting: I am sure that they will sort everything out," Oliver drawled, sitting behind me with a tea and a scone… of course, _he_ wouldn't be bothered about being dead just because he could do what he wanted whereas I still wanted the living to be able to get on with their lives properly.

"I do not believe that for a second, so let me stay here and think about what I could do," I snapped back, knowing on the inside that there was nothing I could.

Something which Oliver was _only_ too kind to remind me of.

"You are _dead_, Amelie, I hardly doubt that you are going to be allowed to pop back down to Earth for a few weeks to hand over the job officially to Claire," he snorted, taking a huge bite of his scone. How I could _ever_ have felt anything for him is beyond me and he was _certainly_ living up to that belief right then.

"I never said that," I retorted sharply, but did not move from my position. I had to stay there and observe my town and what was happening to it.

It couldn't fail. It just couldn't.


	7. Dreams

**Chapter 7:**

She tossed and turned, unable to stop herself from dreaming the most horrific things. Firstly, there was her being captured by the humans of the town and being killed as if she was a vampire – never a good thing. Then there was that the _vampires_ would get pissed off that she was in charge and that Myrnin, Sam and Gérard couldn't stop them, so she died by being drained – even more painful than being staked.

But then there was the final dream. It wasn't a horror, as such, but the events that unfolded were so realistic that she had to keep reminding herself that she was in a dream.

_~this next part is in the dream~_

She landed with a soft thud on the luscious green lawn, the sun out with almost a vengeance, it was that strong. The glare caused Claire to have to squint, wishing that she had sunglasses… which suddenly appeared in her hands. _Strange_, she mused as she moved further into the green prairies, _it's empty… but it's so __**pretty**_.

Then, with a jolt, she realised that the one person she wanted to see again was standing right in front of her. She both almost had a heart attack and fainted at the same time (though a heart attack would probably have induced the same results as the fainting) but barely managed to keep on her feet, her eyes shrewd with the fear of seeing a ghost.

"Are you… are you _real_?" she asked, forgetting for a moment that she was dreaming and that all of this was inside of her head.

Amelie smiled slightly but shook her head sadly, bowing it slightly to hide the growing emotion evident in her eyes. "No, Claire, I am as dead as I was yesterday… perhaps more so… I do not know; I cannot say I have ran studies upon whether or not a vampire body decays for they are usually burned," she responded, a sense of melancholy in her tone.

Claire gulped and stepped forwards before stopping, wondering whether or not the same rules as to being close to Amelie applied after both the war and her death… and Claire's promotion to take Amelie's job.

"Then… then how are you_ here_?" Claire asked, stopping three metres from Amelie, deciding not to chance it further. "I mean… how am I talking to you?"

Naturally, the question was so stupid that Amelie rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "And _you_ are supposed to be the smart one," she muttered, unable to believe that she has been asked _how she is here, in Claire's dreams…_ "Claire, you are _dreaming_. I've hardly become a master of sorcery in the weeks since my death and managed to make myself immune to the sun as well as create this place and drag you here without anyone noticing. Please, _do_ ask more sensible questions in this short time we have," she continued, a sarcastic tone to her voice for the majority of the time. It was something that Claire had so infrequently heard issue from Amelie's mouth, for when she was spoken to, it was usually with a cool demeanour and utter control… but since her death, Amelie seemed to have relaxed slightly.

Though this was Claire's dream (backed up further by the magical appearance of the sunglasses), Amelie was still wearing a similar silk suit to what she wore when she was human, though her hair was loose around her shoulders. If she wore any make up, it was minimal and not at all obvious with the way that her lashes seemed naturally dark and her complexion, obviously, perfect due to her vampire status before she died.

"Where do you live now?" Claire blurted out, the first thing coming to her head to break the growing awkward silence between the two of them. It was that or awkward turtles, complete with the hand gesture, which she doubted Amelie would either appreciate or understand.

Amelie's eyebrow cocked slightly, seeming almost exasperated with the questions Claire asked. Yet she answered. "I suppose it is heaven, though I cannot be sure for Oliver is there and I do not see how _he_ would have been allowed into God's home," she responded bitterly. "Now, before you ask, I _do_ continue to drink blood for I am still a vampire, yet it is extremely infrequently and I no longer have what would be deemed bloodlust. So can we _please_ move onto the topic of my town now, as otherwise you shall have to leave without any of the guidance you obviously came here for," she explained what she knew would be Claire's next question, her pre-empting of what she would ask uncanny.

Claire blinked, confused, and began to walk with Amelie towards the white swinging bench in the corner of the park. "Wait… so this is a dream for _me_, but for you, you are actually _doing_ this?" she confirmed, unable to get her head around the dimensions and physics aspects of it.

As she sat down, Amelie nodded. "Yes, you _thankfully_ called me from the fifteenth game of chess I have been forced to play by Oliver today… and, needless to say, I was winning," once again, she permitted herself a short smile before returning to careful blankness.

"B-but _how_?" Claire continued, unable to accept it.

"Let me compare it to Harry Potter… in the last book, I believe it was an elderly wizard who returned to speak to him in dreamland, almost," Amelie mused, this being the only more recent comparison of the situation that she could think of. There was a Greek mythology along similar lines but she doubted that Claire would know of that. "Dumbledore… yes… well, _he_ was in a similar situation to me – he actively came from his afterlife to visit a Mr Potter, whilst the boy was simply in a dream, like yourself… does that make sense?" she continued.

This analogy making slightly more sense, Claire nodded, not wanting to push Amelie's temper to the limits by asking for more detail as to how it works via physics… _she probably doesn't know_, Claire laughed to herself on the inside, deigning that she wouldn't bother to ask.

"Amelie, how did you do it?" she finally whispered a sensible question, her face falling back to the pitiful expression that has been pretty much glued to it since Amelie had died and left the town in disarray. "How did you manage to keep _everyone_ happy? Humans have found out that I'm now the ruler and they're trying to kill me! I don't know what to do!" she wailed out, burying her head in her arms.

Amelie sighed slightly, knowing that she couldn't give _too_ much away because Claire had to find out how to do it herself. _But I wish I could guide her_, Amelie thought to herself, regretting that she had died… but why wouldn't you regret that? And if she hadn't have died, Claire would never have been in this situation.

Dare she think what life would be like if she hadn't died? Dare she consider it? She had managed to avoid herself taking the 'what if' path in heaven, but with Claire here, she began to contemplate it. If she hadn't have died, then Oliver wouldn't because _he_ had let her go to protect Sam.

On the other hand, Sam _wouldn't_ be in the world right now. He would have been in the place where Oliver was… and that would have been worse than _him_ living without her. For she had lived a long life of pain and regret and had no desire to continue that without Sam… but he had the chance to live again, to find a new love who wanted him back – rather, who _showed_ she wanted him back.

"I cannot tell you what to do, Claire, but I can give a little guidance at the current moment," Amelie finally answered, having contemplated the region of 'what if' enough for the moment. Claire looked up and waited for this guidance, furiously wiping away the tears from her eyes. "Give a speech to the town to explain why _you_ are the right choice for the job. Inform them that you have _all_ their best interest at heart, not just the humans or the vampires, and then simply settle in… if you catch a troublemaker, lock them away and inform their friends that they shall face the same prison sentence if they misbehave. Does that help?" Amelie's low and at least _semi_ warm voice reminded Claire of the time when Sam was staked and, for the first time, she saw that Amelie loved him back just as much as he loved her.

"I get that…" she sighed and nodded. "I guess you're not telling me anything else because 'I need to figure it out on my own'?" she continued, even doing the air quotes around the particularly well used phrase.

Amelie, once again, smiled and nodded, reaching over to place her hand lightly over Claire's. "That's it exactly… I do not _wish_ for you to make the same mistakes as myself, yet I know that if you don't… well… if I know you, Claire, you won't make the same ones that I did. However, I cannot pre-empt your movements and decisions, therefore… this is all I can tell you," she continued, smiling once again but this with more melancholy in it.

Claire looked up at her and shook her head, a fierce determination on her face. "No, no, _no_!" she cried, standing up and facing a suddenly ice statue Amelie. "I _can't_ leave yet, Amelie; I know _nothing_! When someone takes over _normally_, they either already know what to do or they have training…I have a once crazy vamp who scares the hell out of me sometimes, a vamp in love with you but who knows nothing about the running of the town since he didn't see you for fifty years and a bodyguard who _will not leave me alone_ but does give some good advice… oh and can I add that Myrnin thought a lesson that was _so vitally important_ was having a bloody signature! So come back and help me, god dammit, or I will _shoot_ something!" she exploded, knowing in her heart that she was going back to the world of the living but trying to cling onto the dreamland, to Amelie, for a bit longer.

Amelie shook her head from side to side and stood up to face her successor. "Claire, _you_ are the Founder now… not Myrnin or Gérard or… or Sam," she stumbled slightly over Sam's name but soon continued. "Whilst a signature _is_ an important aspect, it is _you_ who controls this town… you need not be taught how because it is what _you_ want to do with it that will drive you forwards…and who is to say that I cannot come and see you in another dream, if you ever need extra guidance?" the small smile on her face, with the almost invisible glisten of tears in her eyes, was enough to bring Claire to full on tears.

"Um… I'll see you then?" Claire confirmed, feeling herself beginning to disappear.

Collecting herself together, Amelie became fully composed once again and stepped back, disappearing herself. "Goodbye, little one, and good luck," she called, just as Claire's body left the park with the swing and the perfect sunlight and the chirping of the bird to take her back… to Sam's flat.

Whilst it may have been a _nice_ flat, there is a difference between a park that does not exist in Morganville to a bachelor flat that has never seen true care for it.

Claire opened her eyes suddenly, realising that she was back on the sofa and that it was morning… she didn't know how she knew that but some sort of hidden sense determined that it was morning and that she was hungry.

"Finally, you're awake," a bedhead haired Sam stated, seeming as tired as a vampire could be. "You've been screaming your head off all night… be pleased I don't have neighbours as otherwise the police would have been out, thinking I was trying to kill you," he continued, grimacing.

She pulled a face, realising that it must have been because of the scary death dreams before, then asked a question. "Was I screaming for the last hour or so?" she asked, her voice carefully blank.

Sam considered this and then shook his head. "No, it meant I could get some kip myself… strange… what were you dreaming about?" he asked curiously, disappearing for a moment before returning with a bowl of cereal which he then handed to Claire.

She blushed slightly, not wanting to mention to Sam that she had seen Amelie – what if it was all a dream? – so then she shrugged. "I don't know… it was scary at first though, but then the end wasn't so bad… I sort of got an idea of what I want to do," she answered slowly, a jolt hitting her that she knew how to deal with the town.

Sam smiled slightly, sitting down on the sofa next to her. "So, what's that then?"

…

"Residents of Morganville, as of five days ago, I have been elected in charge of this town and _all_ of its residents," Claire began, trying to keep her voice from shaking as much as she was on the inside. She was standing on the front steps of City Hall during the day, vampires collected in the shadows whilst the majority of the humans were staring at her with disdainful expressions on their faces from Founder's Square. "Whilst you may not like the fact that it is me who shall now be ruling, I can assure you that I am going to be as fair as I possibly can to ensure that all my decisions and such are fair towards everyone, not just one set of… people," she continued, deigning not to mention vampires incase college students came by.

She stared out at the crowds, trying to see familiar faces. But the only one she could see was Eve, smiling up at her from the front, entirely believing in her best friend.

"However, I can say that the riots of the past day or two are _entirely_ immoral and by doing so, you have only put yourself at a disadvantage to get what you desire," she took a deep breath before saying the most controversial part of her speech. "You tried to burn me out of my home and that is not only wrong, it is illegal. So let me make this perfectly clear: no matter _who_ you are, if you are caught doing criminal damage to another's property, you _will_ be arrested by the police and jailed. It matters not if you are elderly or… or believe you have a higher status in this town, _all_ shall be punished equally."

This was met with roars of approval from the humans, all of whom no longer seemed to care that Claire had 'turned turncoat' and become the Founder; she had made vampires susceptible to the same rules humans were – one of the first steps on the long road to equality.

"Now, all have a good and prosperous day and I shall see you soon," she finished off to rounds of applause from the humans and a respectable smattering of applause from the vampires. And, with that, she stepped back from the steps and into the shadow of City Hall, where she was met by her bodyguard, Myrnin and Sam.

"You did great!" Sam enthused, smiling though it can't have been easy for him, with the reminder of Amelie. Yet Claire had dressed entirely differently to Amelie, wearing black jeans, a silver vest and had her hair loose and curly over her shoulders.

"Yes, I was rather surprised why you _wanted_ the mass of humans who had been destroying your town here at such short notice, but I do admit that you did the right thing," Myrnin responded, his tone cool almost in disapproval that the vampires would now be tried by the same means as humans.

"Ssshhh, Myrnin, just because you're not going to be able to speed as much as you did before… oh wait… and driving without a license…" Claire grinned at him, causing his eyes to narrow in anger before he calmed himself down and nodded.

"There is simply the issue of turning the vampire's loyalty to you," he got back to business, raising an issue that Claire had not thought of. She needed the vampires under her control, otherwise they could revolt against her much easier… and with the turn in the human's favour today to get them to work with them, she needed them fast.

"Um… how do I do that?" she asked quietly, having a sneaking suspicion that she already knew the answer.

"You bite them of course," Myrnin replied as they began to walk inside, his tone suggesting it was obvious.

Claire stopped still, shaking her head vigorously. "Nuh uh," she said, shaking her hands at the same time. "I am _not_ a cannibal… they may not be human but that is _wrong_! And anyway, my teeth couldn't _get_ through your skin!" she continued, stating one of the more obvious reasons why it couldn't happen.

"Yes, I quite agree, though you are _more_ than welcome to try, Claire," Myrnin replied, smiling slightly as he held his wrist out to Claire. The tendons were on show and the skin was so shallow, it was almost translucent. Yet Claire knew it was one hundred times stronger than her delicate membrane and that she couldn't damage it without a sharp object.

"How abouts… _you_ get them under your allegiance and then because you _have_ to do what I say, I can do it like that?" Claire suggested and Myrnin nodded, not seeing a better way.

"Whatever…vampire blood doesn't bother me," he shrugged, dragging the Founder with him, Sam and Gérard following behind with the latter looking disapprovingly at the grip on his mistress. Yet he wouldn't act against someone he knew was utterly on her side… so much so that he half thought he was in love with her, in a sense.

"Wait, so what are we doing _now_ then?" she asked, confused why he seemed so concerned and in such a rush.

"Whilst I dispute this claim_ greatly_," Myrnin responded, turning to shoot Sam the dirtiest look she had ever seen, "_some_ of us seem to think that since I suffered the disease last time, if there were to be a revival of the disease – do not fear, there shall not; this is simply a precaution – or if I were to be killed, we need to have it written down who would succeed me," he explained.

"So sort of like the heir to the throne order?" Claire tried to put it into context. "Like you have the monarch, but when they die, there is the heir, then the third in line and the fourth and so on… so like that?" she continued, causing Myrnin to smile very slightly… since Amelie had died, his natural bubbliness seemed to have been relegated to mere glimpses or for rare occasions… of which only one has been seen so far in almost a month.

"Exactly like that though we have no need to get down into the hundreds for if the top _five_ of us were to be dead, there would be no chance for Morganville," he commented gravely, already scrawling words down on the paper…

_Order of the 'heir' to the vampires in Morganville, under the control and obedient to the Founder, Claire Danvers:_

_Myrnin_

_Sam Glass_

_Gérard_

_Michael_

_Theo Goldman_

_Claire Danvers_

"Now, _preferably_, number six would be second choice, but since there is always the possibility of me dying, I presumed that you would rather stay human," Myrnin explained his ordering. "But if Sam died, I would recommend that you were turned by either Gérard or Theo because the others – no offence, Gérard, but you aren't exactly the best – aren't going to last long before it gets to you," he continued, ignoring the look of annoyance from Claire's bodyguard.

"So if the top _five_ are gone, there is no hope?" Claire reminded him of his previous words with a scathing tone. "I guess you don't need me as leader then!" she continued, causing Myrnin to sigh.

"Are _all_ women like this, able to remember the whimsical and unnecessary details to throw back later?" Myrnin moaned, shaking his head.

"Yep," Sam threw in, ignoring the twist of pain in his heart because he was trying to move on. "Good luck if you're trying to find a girlfriend, Myrnin, because you're gonna be buying a _lot_ of make up presents," he continued, smiling with a touch of evil in there.

"My presence would be enough," he said, raising his eyebrows to make him look like a comic book villain with a moustache.

"EW!" Claire commented, grossed out. "Could we _please_ move onto a more relevant topic, such as my control of vamps in my town now, as otherwise I'm going to be sick," she continued, shaking her head and moving away from the vampires. However, they soon pulled her back, Myrnin handing her the sheet of paper to sign.

"You need to sign it with your signature and sign to show that it is from you," Myrnin explained, handing out the fountain pen for her to use to sign it with. "Just remember our lessons earlier…"

"I _know_ how to sign a piece of paper, Myrnin," Claire shot back, her eyes narrowed with disdain. So she signed the paper quickly and without fuss, handing it back to Myrnin without another word. "Now, I'm going home now since Morganville is no longer trying to kill me. Got anything _else_ you want me to do or is that it?" she rolled her eyes, Myrnin opening his mouth to speak.

"No, that's it," Sam stepped in with a smile, saving her from possibly a four hour lecture on sitting in a seat. Whilst Amelie said she didn't need the lessons, Claire decided that she needed to know more before she got into the job more.

"Good… now enjoy your biting," she commented grimly, turning to walk out of the door with her bodyguard following.

And, for the first time in two days, she got to go home.


	8. Overreaction

**Chapter 8:**

"Claire Bear!" Eve screeched her name excitedly as she walked through the front door to the Glass House, Gérard trailing her dutifully. "You're back!"

Before Claire even had a chance to get into the living room, Eve's arms were around her neck, tight to the point of choking her to death. How ironic would death have been there, since she'd survived so many vampire attacks, just to be killed by a _hug_?

"C-can't breathe," she managed to whisper and Eve realised that she was gripping a little _too_ tight, so stepped back from Claire. Here, she simply grinned, looking back at Gérard with a new found liking for the dude who would now be living in their house. "Sheesh, Eve, I was gone _two days_; what the hell have you done to the place?" Claire asked, agog at the fact that the living room had managed to change more than a little in forty eight hours.

All the furniture had switched places, making it more like a maze to get through the room to the stairs. Nothing was near the window, over which the curtains were drawn, and Claire had the strangest feeling that the window was new.

"Well, we _were_ fighting off crazed humans for like the entire time," Eve shrugged her shoulders, as if it was nothing. "Before you say anything, CB, don't apologise because it isn't as if it's _your_ fault that everyone decided to go barmy and try and destroy our gaff. No… we're just unlucky in the realms of having unwanted visitors," she trailed off, her eyes going dreamy slightly in a pose that reminded Claire _so_ much of the stereotypical pose in films.

"Um, Eve, are you going to return to being _Eve_, or continue the whole 'I'm a film star who is _really_ crap at acting' thing for much longer?" Claire laughed slightly, the sound seeming almost odd in the silent room.

Eve shook out of it, her eyes returning to their usual gleam as she pulled Claire further into the room. In the back of her mind, she was thinking that something wasn't right, but she couldn't think what.

"_Actually_, missy, I was trying to do a whole Desperate Housewives stance," she opposed Claire's statement, just as Claire's attention caught onto the games system on the far side of the room. Just the existence of it jolted her to remember _Shane_… it's _him_ who was missing, was what her brain processed in its subconscious before she realised herself. "Whoa, Claire, are you alright?" Eve asked anxiously as Claire began to stagger forwards, the colour in her face draining entirely as she thought the name _Shane_ in her mind.

Instantly, Gérard was by her side, clutching her arm and helping her down onto the sofa, a sense of déjà vu in the air – after all, he was only doing the same thing three days ago, when she had answered the door to Sam. "Miss, are you alright?" he asked her urgently, concern rooted deep in his eyes.

"Shane… where is he?" she managed to whisper, her eyes distant and unseeing as she thought of the person she wanted to see the most… and the least. She wanted to see him so that he could hold her in his arms, as if nothing had happened, so that he could tell her that everything was going to be ok, that he could fix it all. But then there was the rational side of her, the side which knew that he had done something so terrible that he should never be forgiven, and she knew that he could never be with her. Even if he wanted to, and she wanted him back, he couldn't; he had exposed her to the human population of the town too early, which had backed her into making a decision prematurely with no planning. She would have made it _anyway_, but there's a difference between her _having_ to make the decision and wanting to at a specific time. All she had done was placate the humans, yet anger the vampires… which would probably lead to more attacks.

Eve exchanged a glance with Gérard before sinking to her knees in front of Claire. "Honey, he's on the run somewhere in Morganville," she told her best friend gently, her hand resting on her leg gently. "After he spragged on you – by the way, Michael looked as if he was about to kill him when I came home – he ran off and hasn't been home since. It's not like you need him; he's good for noth-" she trailed off as Claire looked up at her, anger evident beneath the forming tears in her eyes.

"Don't," she ordered, not with her 'Founder' power, but simply the power a broken hearted girl could use. "Don't insult him, Eve, because he's still our friend, no matter what he has done."

"Miss, I think if Sam or Myrnin find him, he won't be in one piece for long," Gérard said to her gravely, causing her to turn to him in anger. The chance to vent the frustration she had yet been unable to vent in regards to Shane betraying her showed a chance to attack Gérard with her tongue.

"Oh yeah? Well, what the hell do _you_ know about it?" she exploded at him, standing up and opposing him. He was so much _taller_ than her, so much wider and stronger and scarier, but the anger seemed to propel her to new heights. "I mean, it wasn't _your_ boyfriend who spragged on your being the ruler to the entire town was it? It wasn't _you_ who has had to hide out for the past few days, is it? No, because you're not even _dating_ anyone…"

"Claire," Eve murmured her name to try and make her calm down but it didn't work.

"No, no you're not," Claire continued, anger carrying her along on every word. In the back of her mind she knew that this was wrong, but it felt so _good_! "Because _normally_, Gérard, you don't even want to do _anything_ that I want, like sit down or eat. But _now_, you're giving me statements that you _know_ I don't want to hear. So just… SCREW YOU!" she screamed the last part before storming off upstairs.

She knew she was acting irrationally, but that part of her was buried deep underneath the part that was just so _happy_ she had managed to vent off all that anger! Better than that, she had done it to a _vampire_, one who would have killed her after the first sentence in the past.

That was the sad truth: unless she was being attacked by a mob of vampires, she would _never_ be attacked by a vampire again.

It was the humans she would need to worry about.

As she ran into her room, she slammed the door shut with a vengeance, using the last of her energy to do so. As soon as the door was shut, the reverberations halted, she began to shake, the anger entirely eradicated from her body. She could only see the horrors of her actions and remember the fact that Shane had _left_ her, he had chosen to leave rather than stay with her just because she had taken the job.

She collapsed onto her bed and buried her face in her pillow, embarrassed beyond belief at how she had attacked Gérard when all he had tried to do was _help_ her. She was the one who had pressed him to have his voice heard; he hadn't wanted to do so. He had only put into words what she knew in her heart; how she knew that he was _never_ coming back.

Sobs began to escape her as she wished she could take back every moment in this house today; she would do _anything_ to take back every word that she had said to Gérard, the one who was only trying to protect her, not lie to her or make her think anything else than what was the truth… he had only been there for her, as she had asked, and she had repaid him by insulting him beyond belief.

She heard a tentative knocking at her door, along with Eve's soft voice asking to come in. the lack of refusal after a few moments prompted the door to open and close softly, a weight suddenly added on the side of the bed.

"Claire, are you ok?" Eve's gentle voice asked her, no judgement in it, just concern for the girl sobbing her heart out on the bed.

"No," she confessed, sitting up with bleary eyes to look at the girl with the black hair. "No, I'm not, Eve… I said some _awful_ things and I didn't mean any of it! I was just so _angry_ and… and I took it out on the nearest person and… and I didn't _mean_ it!" she wailed, Eve suddenly clutching her close to her in an attempt to comfort her.

"It's ok, Claire, he knows you didn't mean it," she told her best friend leaning against her. "Something about his face told me he was _relieved_ that you had reacted that way, if that makes sense," she continued, surprising Claire so much that she actually stopped crying to look at Eve in shock.

"_Relieved_ about it?" Claire said, unable to comprehend. "B-but… but _why_?" she continued, her head refusing to be able to get why he would be _relieved_ that she had snapped at him.

"Because it… because… oh, why don't you ask him yourself?" Eve couldn't explain, invoking a sharp shaking of Claire's head. "Oh, he isn't gonna kill you, you know! Even _I_ can see that!" she snapped, slightly annoyed with her friend's idiocy.

"I know," Claire mumbled, but didn't move from the hug Eve continued to give her. "I… I just feel so _bad_ that I said it… wait, he can hear this, can't he?" she realised that there was no point in even _attempting _to have a private conversation with a vampire probably almost as old as Myrnin in the house.

Eve nodded her head and smiled. "Yes, he can… and now I'm guessing that he's going to be getting impatient because he didn't get the chance to check that there wasn't a violent person in the room before you entered… oh, I wish Michael was like that," she trailed off, going entirely off topic by the end as her voice became slightly dreamier.

"Ok, you _seriously_ need to take lessons in how to comfort people because, well, what you've just done? That isn't what I call comforting!" Claire said with a small grin as she wiped away her tears from her face.

"Pish, little girl," Eve said in response, a smile on her face.

"No, seriously, I bet _Myrnin_ could do a better job than that!" Claire responded, just as…

"_What_ could I do a better job than Miss Goth at, little Claire?" Myrnin, the man of the moment, just _had_ to pop into the equation, his sudden appearance around the door causing both girls to scream and clutch at one another in horror. "Oh, _why_ the overreaction? Surely you have grown used to the appearance of people suddenly? After all, we _are_ in Morganville," his smile did little to reassure the girls, whose hearts were going faster than they did probably for the entirety of the week before in _total_.

"_Actually_, you grow to think that you're safe enough from the suddenness of vampires appearing _in your own room_," Claire responded scathingly, her annoyance at Myrnin rising again… but, after the outburst of mere minutes ago, she managed to refrain herself from continuing.

He raised an eyebrow at her questioningly but simply bowed slightly in front of her, a movement that wasn't _entirely_ abnormal, but certainly wouldn't have been done in that situation normally. "Well, I _can_ see where that may have been slightly shocking for you, but it would have been so much worse if it were one of the lesser beings in the vampire world, would it not?" he argued back, a glint of something bright and utterly _Myrnin_ in his eyes as he looked at the two girls in the room.

"Perhaps… if it was that Morley dude, we'd all be running and screaming as we hold our noses," Eve laughed before sensing that Myrnin wanted to talk to Claire alone. "Um… that sounds like Michael's back: I'll go get… dinner sorted…" she trailed off as she half ran out of the room, heading for downstairs.

Myrnin walked slowly across the room and carefully sat down in the place which Eve had just vacated, looking at Claire with a concerned expression. "Are you over your little episode?" he asked her, a glimmer of humour in his otherwise stern tone.

"Are you over being a crazy and bipolar vampire?" she shot back, grinning as she insulted him. He laughed slightly but simply sat there for a second or two, not knowing what to say. "Please inform me if I am going deaf: _Myrnin_, the king of talking, is silent?" she confirmed, laughing alongside him for a moment before falling silent herself.

"Gérard doesn't hate you, or whatever you teenage drama queens think yelling at someone does nowadays," he very knowingly told her, utterly serious now. "I hate to break this to you, little Claire, but just _yelling_ at a vampire shall not have you killed. You rule us all. We cannot do anything without your permission – with a certain level of authority there, of course, if you understand what I mean," he said, basically saying that any decision to kill a human had to be run past her first.

She shuddered slightly. "Does that mean that _Amelie_ allowed those vampires to kill the humans who were found drained?" she confirmed, her voice filled with horror.

"Some, yes," Myrnin told her gravely. "Others belonged to Oliver, who gave permission without even considering it. Ninety percent of applicants to Amelie were denied, with only certain cases being permitted."

"My first new rule is that that _cannot_ happen anymore," she decided, her voice sharp with the injustice towards the system: humans would be murdered for killing vampires, yet, so long as enough paperwork was filled in, vampires could kill humans with no consequences! "The second one is that the two percent of students who are skimmed off the top of the TPU student list is to be stopped. There _has_ to be enough blood in town for the vampires, especially with the depleted number since the other week," she made her second executive decision in as many minutes as she remembered the random bit of information she learnt on her first day in the Glass House.

Myrnin looked astounded at the second one but nodded. "I presume that you will be writing that law up in full tomorrow?" he confirmed and she nodded. "Good, for you shall have to act quickly: from what I have read in the notes from the previous years, the disappearances all begin from the week after next."

"Well, I think that, for tonight, I should be allowed some time to relax," Claire sighed, standing up. "I mean, I've already worked my socks off these past few days, what with everything that's gone on. I think I need to watch some telly and just relax for some time. Don't you agree?" she continued, sighing internally as her heart ached for Shane. She wanted him to hold her in his arms, to press his lips against her hair… but this would never happen again.

Myrnin agreed non verbally and stood up with her, escorting her to the door. He waited for her to walk through before following, remaining a metre or two behind her as she made her way slowly down the stairs, hesitant to approach Gérard once again.

"Um, Gérard?" she whispered his name, shaking slightly with fear on how to say this to a vampire. He turned as soon as he heard his name, distracting himself from his conversation with Sam who smiled over at Claire, as if to say everything's ok.

"Yes, miss?" he answered in his usual tone, no apparent bitterness towards her whatsoever.

"I'm really, really sorry for what I said; I didn't mean it and it was just because I was angry and I took it out on you and I would _really_ hate it if you resigned but if you did I would like totally understand," the words came flowing out and she garbled them all so fast that even the vampires in the room had an issue understanding what she was saying.

He got the gist of it, however, and nodded, bowing deeply to a blushing Claire. "That's quite alright, miss, nothing out of the ordinary," he said to her, so humble in his acceptance of her mediocre apology that it made her want to cry.

"Um… well… what do you want to do?" she asked him, not sure what protocol is for her being home. She sensed that he would have to stay, to protect her against suddenly appearing enemies, but where she wasn't sure.

"I will, if you would be so kind as to allow it, stay in the soundproof room upstairs, with the door open?" he suggested and she nodded, thankful that he had thought, yet again, of what to do. "Very well, have a nice evening, miss, and I shall see you tomorrow," and, with that, he had disappeared off up the stairs before she could even offer him some pizza or whatever Eve and Michael were cooking.

She turned with a slight huff towards Sam and Myrnin, both of whom grinned at her expression. "He's going to be moving as fast as he can when you're around food," Sam told her.

"As I shall be," Myrnin frowned. "I don't trust the Italian cuisine after a certain numbskull attempted to inform me that eating it would turn me into a top rated alchemist… needless to say, I was already a top rated alchemist and all the food did was give me extra wind," he commented slightly _too_ far, causing both Sam and Claire to grimace.

"Too much information, Myrnin!" Claire said, a small smile on her lips. "Myrnin… can I come to work tomorrow morning, say 10am?" she asked hesitantly, wringing her hands as she waited for an answer.

For a second, he simply seemed stunned, then he arranged his features into a beatific smile and nodded enthusiastically. "Of course, my dear. I shall have something ready for you to learn then!"

And, with that, he almost ran through the portal.

"Grandad, you staying for dinner?" Michael returned to the main room and addressed Sam, who turned and frowned slightly.

"Um… no, I have some things to be doing," he answered, not elaborating but leaving them in the dark. Claire half wondered what on _earth_ he could be doing before remembering that it was Sam and she had no right to know what he was doing. He was already doing her a favour by helping so much, even though it hurt him so much because of Amelie; she didn't need to poke around in his business as well.

"Bye, Sam," Claire murmured as he walked towards the portal.

"Bye," he raised a hand in farewell before walking through the wooden door and disappearing into his flat, shutting the connection. As soon as he had gone, a strange fresh sense of melancholy rose over Claire, but she fought it down, knowing she had time enough for it later.

"Alright," she said with a fake smile. "You had better have this pizza ready, or I'll have your heads for my office!"


	9. Cheating

_Chapter 9:_

The morning came none too quickly for the girl who slept fitfully, her dreams plagued with the twisted ideas of late: that humans would go and kill her in her sleep; that she would go on stage and forget everything she was going to say; that she would make decisions and that _everyone_ in Morganville would hate them, vampires and humans alike.

Oh, and the biggest fear of all: that her actions would result in the existence of vampires getting revealed to the world.

However, as Claire woke up, the relief came second to the split second thought of wondering what Amelie would have her be having her do that day. For one second, as usual, she thought that everything was as it was mere weeks ago, that Amelie and Oliver were still locked in a power struggle even in the midst of Bishop being around. Everything was twisted in her little fantasy world, yet it was all so much more enjoyable than the crushing despair felt at the same time as the relief that the dreams weren't _probably_ going to come true.

"Urgh," she groaned to herself as she rubbed her head, slowly opening her crusty eyes. "What _time_ is it?" she continued, talking as if there was someone else in the room, when, in fact, she was asking herself.

Her eyes managed to open long enough for them to register the time displayed on the digital clock, but the 9:17am didn't register in her brain for a good three minutes. In this time, she managed to roll back into her duvet, bury her head under the pillow and began to dream of a happy place… until she remembered something.

"_Myrnin… can I come to work tomorrow morning, say 10am?"_ she had asked Myrnin… and that 10am was merely forty three minutes away from that current moment in time.

She bolted upright, ignoring the vertigo feeling she got for moving so fast, and jumped out of bed. Quickly, she dashed around the room, gathering random clothes she was sure she hadn't worn in quite a while before heading to the bathroom for possibly the fastest shower of her entire life.

Within fifteen minutes, she was dressed and ready to head down to breakfast, when a thought hit her: was Gérard still 'in bed', or whatever he did since she was positive he wouldn't bother sleeping?

She contemplated heading up the stairs to the secret room but changed her mind three steps towards the dark wooden panelling on the wall, near to the concealed secret entrance. It was scary and she didn't want to walk into an area now occupied by a vampire. Things may have been different in terms of power with her, but that still didn't mean she wanted to go running up the stairs and come face to face with a scary vampire! Anyway, he was supposed to be looking after _her_; if he couldn't get himself up or whatever, that wasn't her fault. In fact, she lamented with a grin, she would like the time to herself.

Humming slightly under her breath, she bounded down the stairs and ran into the kitchen, noticing how it was strangely quiet. Then she remembered how Eve would still be in bed, Michael could be anywhere since he was a vampire, and Shane was on the run from, well, _her_. She could order vampires out after him to find him, and they would in an instant probably, but why? All it would result in would be her having to make a decision as to whether or not she had him locked in prison or killed – if the vampires finding him didn't do the latter first.

She poured herself half a cup of coffee and added an almost equal amount of milk to the cup before taking a sip. It was still a little strong but she didn't care: she needed to wake up fully before going into the lab for the first _proper_ time in many months. In fact, in a sense, it was almost her first visit because it would be the first one in which Myrnin was fully sane.

After drinking a good three quarters of the coffee, Claire dug around in the fridge for the pot of chocolate spread she replaced every week – she used a _lot_ – before plonking two pieces of white bread in the toaster. Then she waited for the bread to toast to an appropriate amount, all the while wondering if her and Myrnin could create some sort of energy limit so that their bills were reduced (God only knows how much Myrnin spent a month in lighting his shack), until it was finally ready.

She slathered on the spread, not waiting for it to melt as she scoffed it down, instantly realising how hungry she was. By the time she finished, it was pushing five to ten, so she decided risking possible brain mishmashing was the only way to get to the lab on time… actually, she had always known that (well, she had for the past 38 minutes) but she had hoped she may have time for a run.

Strangely, Gérard still hadn't come down and wasn't exactly dancing around the living room waiting for her, but she didn't care. _If he doesn't come down for me, then I'm not hanging around for him_, she thought to herself, a weird sense of glee coming over her. For the first _proper_ time (since all the things Am—_she_ had told Claire not to do weren't exactly big), she broke the rules of something that she had been told to do: not leave the house without her bodyguard.

She stalked across the room towards the portal, wrenching it open as soon as it appeared. On the other side, she saw Myrnin's lab restored to its former glory, everything in messy heaps once again. And there he was on the other side of the room, Myrnin, wearing the most absurd outfit she had possibly seen him in: a reincarnation of the one he wore at the Welcome Feast, along with some Edwardian top thing and bunny slippers with fangs.

"Hey, Myrnin!" she called across the room, causing him to spin around from whatever he was doing in confusion. She stepped through the portal and shut it behind her, causing the confusion evident on his face to become even more apparent… until alarm bells began to sound.

She couldn't actually tell where they were coming from: was it the lab, or were they issuing from the Glass House and have such a high frequency that they were able to be heard?

Then Myrnin's expression became clear: he knew exactly what was going on – Claire had left the house without Gérard.

"Claire, I believe you were _distinctly_ warned not to leave the house without your bodyguard," he hissed at her, pressing a button to turn the alarm off in the lab, though it was still audible – must have been in both the lab and the Glass House.

He pulled her through the suddenly open portal and into the Glass House, where the noise was so loud, it had even gotten Eve out of bed. The worried expression on her face as Claire walked through was so great that Claire instantly felt a pang of pain at causing so much grief to her best friend.

The scariest person in the room, however, was Gérard – the look of anger on his face was stronger than the tight grip Myrnin had on her arm. It made her want to cower in the corner, made her remember that she was breakable and could be dead in less than a second if either her bodyguard or boss wanted it.

"I believe you were not to leave the house without me, miss," Gérard growled, stepping forwards as he addressed his boss. "Whilst I have no objections to allowing you to wander freely, so to speak, in the location you desire, I _must_ go there with you first," he continued, making the guilt rise once again. All he wanted was for her to be safe – she had resented that so struck out on her own, not thinking of the worry to both her staff and the girl still staring in horror at Claire.

"I… I'm sorry," Claire muttered, averting her eyes from both Gérard and Eve, instead looking at the floor. "I just wanted to get out and I thought that leaving to just go to the lab with Myrnin would be ok. sorry," she continued, looking up at Myrnin with pleading eyes.

Slowly, as if he only just realised that she was in his grasp, Myrnin let her go, breathing audibly. "Well, since you weren't to know that I set up sensors to see if you left the house without a guard, I can forgive you for the racket you caused in a laboratory that requires silence at the current moment in time," he said in an almost begrudging tone, a teeny bit of warmth creeping in at the end.

"Well, now we all know that Claire hasn't been kidnapped by some randomer, or gone running off to be a prostitute on the streets, I'm going," Eve's heavily sarcastic voice rang out across the room as she began to stomp up the stairs.

"That girl needs an attitude check," Myrnin said, not in a quiet voice as he ought to but in one that had more volume than Eve's.

"I _heard_ that!" Goth girl shot back, turning on the stairs to shoot the ex-crazy vampire a dirty look.

"You were supposed to," Myrnin responded, a prim smile on his face. "Now, Gérard, would you and dear Claire like to come to my lab so we can work? You, dear Gérard, can of course sit in the corner, I don't particularly mind," he continued, focusing his attention on the two people before him.

"Sure," Claire shrugged her shoulders and walked through the portal, wincing as she waited for the inevitable shrieking of the alarm. But nothing happened.

"Because I am with you, there is no alarm," her bodyguard explained as he processed her posture and the obvious way that she was waiting for something.

"Ahh right," she said weakly, as the portal door was slammed shut by Myrnin. "So, Myrnin, what are we going to be doing today?"

~x~

Three hours later, she had completed the thing that she had been given to do: compile lists of blood groups in Morganville (the humans, of course) along with preferences of the vampires, to see which was the most popular.

"So, Myrnin, remind me again why I'm doing admin work whilst you get to play with chemicals and make explosions?" Claire asked, her voice slightly crabbit at the blatant unfairness here.

"You are compiling the lists because you are still my assistant, not anything more, and I need you to do it because thinking of blood makes me thirsty," Myrnin said with a smile evident in his voice. "Also, you haven't been working for many a month now and I don't trust you with my machines without using them for so long… and also, the chemicals could kill you. I'm saving you in the long run."

"Well you haven't used those machines being sane in many _decades_, so I think a few months makes me an expert on them in comparison to you," she shot back, grinning slightly as she thought she had won.

"Oh, little Claire, you have no idea, do you?" he said, not really fitting in with the conversation but his tone implying his belief he had 'won'. "Besides the point, I have some requests to be making of you, in a few hours time when you are back to not being an apprentice."

She sighed but nodded, having an inkling she knew what he wanted but not wanting to bring it up there incase he managed to persuade her to spend all the town's money on machines simply so she had permission to use them.

"So, Myrnin, remind me _why_ we need a list of blood types and preferences within Morganville?" she asked him, looking down at the page which had an abnormally high amount of AB+ people, yet this not being a particularly sought after blood group.

"Well, as you demanded yesterday that we stop culling some of the students of the university and all requests to kill have now been stopped, we need to make up the blood _somehow_," Myrnin said, shrugging his shoulders as if this were obvious. "Whilst our vampire numbers may have been depleted recently, this means that we all must work harder to control Morganville and therefore use more blood up in the process."

"Translation: Myrnin has gotten used to unlimited blood when he was crazy, so he wants to ensure that he always has enough… though I _still_ don't see why we're making this list… or rather why _I_ am," she responded, the suddenness of her answer and the wit in it startling him into silence for thirty seconds or so.

"You have a point with the statement about unlimited blood, but the reason we need to know the most common blood groups is so that when we develop our machine to multiply the amount of blood we have, we design it for the blood group most in demand but in lowest quantity at first, so the pressure can begin to be eased upon the residents of the human part of this town," he explained in one long sentence in an effort to confuse her into simply agreeing with him.

He should have known that Claire never did that.

"So… you want to make a machine to multiply blood?" her brow furrowed as she processed this point.

"I don't _want_ to; I _am_," he said, changing her statement from the conditional tense. "And you shall be assisting, as my assistant. Now, from your list, which blood is most wanted but in the lowest quantity?" he requested for this information in a yell as he ran across the lab with a suddenly foaming test tube.

She checked her list quickly, scanning over the charts and such she had been forced to make 'in order to present the information better', to identify that this was type B.

"Type B is wanted the most but with the least amount of people in Morganville having that blood type," she answered near instantly, looking up as the beaming man returned across the room. "So, the machine will be made to work for that blood type first, before we then expand further into other types?" she confirmed and he nodded, grinning with evident delight at this plan.

"That, my dear, is the idea I had when your plans for the town became clear," he said, the faintest hint of disapproval evident in his voice.

"You mean, the plans I had for _my_ people when I took the job that _you_ insisted I did?" she shot back slightly waspishly because he was pissing her off. After all, he insisted that she became the Founder, yet he didn't seem exactly happy with her plans to make life better for human residents of Morganville.

"I was only _jesting_, Claire, don't get your panties in a twist," Myrnin responded, hinting with his vocab that he took Eve up on the offer to watch forty eight hours straight of television – it would explain where he had been for two days.

"Fine, well, since I'm done, what do you want me to do?" she asked, shrugging her shoulders.

"Go home, you and your little bodyguard are cluttering up my lab now," he ordered her, causing her to look at him in outrage. "What? In these hours, little one, you are under _my_ control, so you do what I say. Go watch some of that awful television you enjoy so much, whilst I finish up. And then, when I am finished, I shall come over for you and we can go to your office and you can listen to my request, does that sound acceptable?"

She sighed and stood up, dropping the pen on the table with a deliberate clang. "Sure, whatever, I just better be getting paid," she said, a grin on her face as she walked towards the portal, Gérard in tow.

"Oh of course you can be paid," Myrnin responded. "But know this: you pay for _everything_ I spend!" he rubbed his hands with glee before slamming the door behind her.

In the Glass House living room, Claire simply stood there for a good three or four minutes.

"I'm paying for my own labour," she whispered in disbelief. "Jeez, that man is good!"

And, with that, she sat down on the sofa (Gérard in the corner of the room) and immersed herself in television, waiting to go to work… where, once again, she wasn't paid!


	10. Greetings

_Chapter 10_

Sleep was fitful again that night, but not for the same reason as the nights previous to this. No, last night was more…_personal_ nightmares, rather than those before – about her own life in opposition to more abstract dreams about the wider population of Morganville.

It was hard to decide which was scarier.

On one hand, you had dreams where everyone was either trying to kill you or was laughing at you publicly. On the _other_ hand, you had the moment when you found out your _boyfriend_ had betrayed you to the entire population of the town. Oh and the fact that he didn't bother to apologise and now your dreams were plagued with the moment when you next see him – though, in all likelihood, the next time (if ever) you'd see him would be at his own funeral.

Life was tough…and hard…and mean.

Claire sighed as she stood up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed to do so. Out of the open curtains, she could see that the sun was already well on it's way to being high in the sky, which could only mean one thing: she'd slept till almost lunchtime…and she was still tired.

Stifling a yawn, she trudged downstairs, bedhead hair and all, and walked into the kitchen to find Eve laughing at her. Oh yes, it was a bad day when _Eve_, Queen of sleeping in, was up before you.

"Don't laugh," Claire mumbled, shutting her eyes as she slid onto the breakfast bar stool. "Sleep deprivation is _not_ fun."

"Bedhead hair is not a look you should be rocking, Claire Bear," Eve smiled, pouring the girl a cup of coffee and 'forgetting' to add milk. "Oh, you've missed the funniest thing this morning," she chattered away, deciding that she wanted to share this information whether Claire wanted her to or not.

The words intrigued Claire to the point that, after downing the entire cup and pulling a face at the bitterness, she asked the question Eve wanted her to. "Go on. What did I miss whilst I was dead to the world?"

"Only the, like, _best_ thing…oh…maybe it wasn't that good, in hindsight." Claire rolled her eyes as Eve continued to deliberate about the quality of the information she was giving Claire.

"Get on with it, Eve," Claire sighed, pouring herself a cup of coffee this time, adding more than half the cup's volume of milk.

"Well…you know how your door was shut and it's probably the thickest door in Morganville?" Eve grinned, getting into the story. "So there you were, dead to the world, and 9am rolls around…and then 10am…and Gérard is absolutely _shitting_ himself, thinking you'd done a bunk out of the window. He was all for breaking down the door to see if you were in there – as, of course, he couldn't hear through the door – until Michael got _proper_ in his face and reminded him that the door belongs to him… oh, Claire, it made me laugh so much," she broke off into what was probably a continuation of the fit of giggles from earlier.

In all honesty, it wasn't _that_ funny…but compared to everything else of late in Claire's life, it was probably akin to Michael McIntyre's Comedy Roadshow - absolutely fricking hilarious. So she found herself joining in with the giggling, just as Michael appeared in front of her.

"It wasn't _quite_ like that," he sighed, looking directly at Eve. "I don't remember doing the Terminator voice, or anything else like that," he poured himself a cup of the near empty coffee – the life and substance of the three Glass House residents – and sat down opposite Claire.

"You need to add in a bit of an extra dimension when you're relaying the story to someone else, Michael," Eve sighed, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. "_God_, don't you know anything?"

He would probably have continued this argument, but then Gérard walked into the room, relief more than anything else on his face.

"You're still here, miss," he said to Claire, an surprised edge to his tone that he didn't quite manage to hide.

"No, I decided to jump out of the window, stroll around Morganville, stop about fifty murders and then get back here without anyone noticing I'd gone out," sarcasm evidently was her forte in this sense of the word – arguing with her bodyguard.

"Actually, last time I checked, you aren't Wonderwoman," Eve interjected, ruining the punchline.

After throwing her best friend a glare that could probably kill a vampire, Claire continued. "I said to you that I wouldn't leave without you, Gérard, and when I say something, I mean it. So don't think that I'm going to clear off because I'm not. After all, where can I _really_ go?"

The question stumped the man standing in front of her, a new level of humility rising over him for some reason. It was then that Claire realised _again_ (each time seemed to spur another jolt of surprise) that her words had impact – being the Founder evidently gave you clout with your words.

"I apologise," Gérard replied, slightly stiffly, and took a step back. "I believe you had plans to go to the office today?" he continued after a short pause, looking up at the clock to show her that it was actually later than she originally thought – closer to 1pm than any other time.

She nodded, tilting her head back and groaning before standing up, Eve instantly nicking her vacated seat. "Looks like I'm off to get ready," she sighed, giving Eve a pointed look to which the girl just shrugged.

"What can I say? You get up, you loose dibs," Eve answered, rolling the eyes that Claire only just realised were heavily lined in thick black kohl. "Oh and it's your turn to cook tonight, CB. We'll get ya the ingredients since, ya know, it's sort of not the _best_ idea for you to be going out, so text us, 'kay?" she called after Claire as she walked out of the kitchen.

"Yes, yes!" waving a hand behind her to show she understood, Claire stomped through the living room and up the stairs, slamming the bathroom door behind her for no reason other than to try and wake up.

If the ear-splitting crash didn't wake up the dead, she didn't have a clue what would.

_~x~_

Half an hour later, and considerably more alert, Claire emerged downstairs, finding her bodyguard loitering in the back of the living room as he waited for her.

"They went to the shops," he explained the lack of noise emulating from anywhere in the Glass House before she could even fully open her mouth, a feat which Claire found impressive.

"Thanks," was all she could manage as she walked over to the portal handily left there by Myrnin – after all, she didn't exactly rate losing about half her brain cells in one movement as a good idea if she had to make all the executive decisions around the town.

Walking through it, she emerged into the office she instantly decided she hated. They'd cleared out a tonne of the absolute _rubbish_ that had been the previous owner's decorations of choice (even seeing her in the field hadn't made Claire accept that Amelie had died) and yet it was still…so _old fashioned_!

The office Claire had always desired, if she had ever been lucky enough to get her own, would be glass based, plenty of sunlight flooding in the windows and be neatly organised. This one had the last one dead on – not a single _sheet_ of paper unnecessarily scattered around – but the other two were no-no's so far.

And something told Claire that the second option would be about as likely as Oliver returning from the dead simply to tell her he loved her and missed Myrnin.

Ie, not very.

She opened her mouth and then closed it near instantly, not sure what to say. Should she get on with working – as she surely has weeks worth of work to be getting on with – or would making her working environment more appealing be a better starting point?

Being a girl, even one who preferred science to fashion, Claire chose the second option. Weighing it up in her mind, she decided that she needed an appropriate working environment in which to complete the mounds of work she had to do – or at least have it on order.

"We're redecorating," she informed Gérard, who stood behind her like a lemon. "I mean, you _have_ to agree that it's absolutely disgusting in here. Get the black bags," she ordered, ignoring his (admittedly whispered) protests that it wasn't disgusting.

As soon as the black bags were in her hands, she made a start.

_~x~_

Almost an hour later, she had just about cleared out the entire office. She kept the desk until she could get a replacement – glass, on order from the internet – and every single item of furniture in the room that comprised of a colour darker than beech oak was thrown out…which was pretty much everything. In fact, the only thing that one hundred percent survived the chop – slightly insensitive wording, given how the previous owner died – was the huge mirror on the far side of the room. Gilded, it hung tall and proud upon the wall and gave Claire the first real glimpse – one that could be entirely made up – into Amelie's world.

She had hung the mirror there, Claire assumed, to remind herself that work was her life, that _Morganville_ was her life. So long as she could see herself in that mirror with her desk in front of her, she was happy. It was her entire life.

She died for it.

Of course, Claire realised, that could be entire bull that she had just thought up, but it was worth a shot trying to get into Amelie's head. Whilst she may have had a heart made out of more ice than you use to separate organelles in a cell, she was a good ruler who only died to save the one she loved…_ones_, technically, since there was absolutely no getting away from the fact that Amelie loved Morganville.

"I think that we can get rid of that then," Claire said slowly to Gérard, nodding her head in the direction of the pile of unwanted items which almost equated the entire room.

"I'll have George come and fetch it all," her bodyguard agreed, allowing Claire the chance to get on with her work. It was more than slightly daunting; the few menial things she had done before had been with Myrnin, someone who could tell her when she was doing something wrong, or if there was a better way to do something. But now…now she was on her own.

So what did she do first? That was the question she needed to decide upon an answer to as she swung into the chair – the only other thing she was keeping in the room. It was so _comfortable_, so perfectly awesome, that she had decided as soon as she set eyes on it that it would never be leaving. As soon as she sat in it, she felt as if she never wanted to get out of it.

Before she could decide what to do, a green light began to flash on the phone, indicating it was ringing. Claire would need to edit that to make sure that it rang – it was all well for a _vampire_ to have just a flashing light, as they'd see it, but since lights made no difference in her peripheral vision, she'd need the noise of the telephone.

"Hello?" she picked up the phone, forgetting that there was a caller-id tab on the top of the phone.

"Miss, we have an issue that has arose and requires your assistance in solving," the voice of one of her assistants – she'd had about three seconds to see them and they spoke so fast, she missed their names – greeted her ears. "The vampire Hollis has been arrested and is now attempting to kill every human in the police station. Mayor Morrell has already been called and is unable to get him to calm down and it is required for you to make the decision what is to be done with him," she explained to Claire, the latter of whom was already closing her eyes and groaning. The first day on the job and she was already getting called out to deal with a damned rogue vampire.

"Great, thanks…" where she would normally put the name of the person on the phone if she knew it, Claire ended up pausing and almost waiting for the other person to give their name – though if she removed the phone from her ear, she knew that she would know who it was.

"Linda, miss," Linda replied, sending a wave of guilt through Claire. She had so much to learn and remember that forgetting the name of someone whose existence you only discovered earlier in the week wasn't much, but it seemed the biggest problem in her life at the minute.

"Sorry, Linda," Claire apologised, slowly opening her eyes. "We'll head down there now. Thank you and goodbye," she thanked the woman and indicated that she was going to hang up before she did, feeling it was only etiquette. However, the surprised expression on her bodyguard's face at what she had said told her everything; Amelie had never been like that.

_Amelie can get stuffed_, Claire found herself thinking, for one second angry with the other woman – for another reason other than dying. She had the most power in the entire town and she was still never courteous – from what Claire had seen so far – towards those who worked for her.

But instantly the guilt hit her again, as she knew she shouldn't have been finding out all this information and wouldn't if Amelie hadn't been so self-sacrificing for Sam. Oh no, she would still be sitting in the Glass House, or in a classroom, or even in Myrnin's lab – _certainly_ not redecorating the office and heading down to the police station to 'deal' with a vampire.

She stood up and walked out of the room slowly, not entirely sure the best way to get out of the building. It was merely a three or four minute walk (she thought) from the building she was in then and the police station and it would do her good to walk. After all, she wasn't a vampire who couldn't get fat – if she was to spend her life sitting down, she didn't want to end up like the late Mayor Morrell.

"Miss?" Gérard called her back as she headed towards the door that led to the street, himself lingering around the door which, she assumed, would take her into the garage. "Where are you going?"

"Walking – it's not like it's exactly across country to get to the police station," Claire replied, not thinking through any possible limitations that the daylight could have for her bodyguard.

"The sunlight, miss," Gérard sighed after he spoke, probably internally wondering how the head of the town could be so thick as to have forgotten the restrictions upon a portion of her population.

"But…but I want to _walk_," not caring that she sounded like a spoilt brat who only wanted to get her own way, Claire pouted as she looked at her bodyguard. Mentally, she began calculating the distance to the door, how quick she could get it open, and whether she could get out without him grabbing her. However, she instantly discounted it when she remembered he was old so could follow her out without an issue - even at midday.

"There could be anyone out there to try and kill you," he warned her but she simply shrugged it off.

"They'd manage it if I was in a car or if I was walking, Gérard, it doesn't exactly make a difference," she told him bluntly. "Anyway, I don't _really_ think that anyone has any plans to murder me today, as it would get more than a little boring if that happened every day," she rolled her eyes at the idea of being cooped up inside every single day for the next fifty or sixty years – she wasn't Amelie. During the night, she needed to sleep and so the daytime was the only time she could go out. People may still slightly hate her but not enough to kill her – or so she hoped.

"Did you, or did you not, put me in charge of your security?" Gérard asked her, a tone creeping into his voice into his voice as he spoke to his boss.

"Yes…but there's a difference between needing security from people with homicidal tendencies aimed at me and then not letting me walk across a street!" she snapped back, losing all patience with the situation. "If you don't let me go, I'll fire you," she threatened him, knowing this was old threats but it was all she could think of.

"I believe we have covered this issue before…" he trailed off, exasperated but being unable to show it to the most important person in the entire town.

"No, we haven't," she responded, a new edge to her voice that had _never_ been there before. It wasn't…it wasn't Amelie, it wasn't Oliver, it was just _mean_. "You all tried to insist that I need these protections and all they are doing is destroying my life. Don't bother to go down the whole "your life is different now" route, since I don't give a toss. If I want to walk to the damned police station, I _will_!" and, with that, she stomped to the door and tried to wrench it open.

Unfortunately for her, Gérard was in front of her before the key could even get turned in the lock.

"I repeat," he whispered quietly, respect in his tone as he evidently remembered both his place and the fact that he was facing a human girl. "You cannot leave the house without me. As with all vampires, I do not go out into the sunlight unless it is a life or death situation, something which this is not. Therefore, we travel in the safe car."

She shook her head, fiercely holding back tears as she stared him down as best a human could stare at a vampire. "In that case, you're fired. I'm not her, I don't want bodyguards all the time."

Rolling his eyes dramatically, Gérard pulled out an extremely modern phone from his pocket and began to dial a number. "Myrnin? Yes, I require your presence…she's being _difficult_."

"You're talking about me?" Claire huffed, once again acting like the teenager she was. "You are actually discussing _me_ to Myrnin, _in front of me_? Have you absolutely no idea how this world works?"

Ignoring her, Gérard turned his back on her and continued the conversation, muttering so quietly that she had absolutely no chance of hearing, particularly because she was muttering to herself about how everyone in this town is ganging up against her.

Within about thirty seconds, Myrnin had arrived through a portal, a bored expression on his face. "Dear me, we're having _this_ again?" he sighed. "I heard you on the cameras saying that you don't want bodyguards, Claire, yet I _do_ believe that we have discussed the reasoning behind why you must have Gérard with you many a time."

"You're _stalking _me?" she looked outraged. "Jeez, Myrnin, why cameras? It's not like…oh God, you don't have them in my room, do you?" she shuddered as she contemplated the likely possibility that Myrnin could have put cameras in her room (not thinking of the more pornographic material on there) to simply ensure she never left unaccompanied. The mere thought made her shudder more than ever before.

Though it was something he would perhaps do, Myrnin looked outraged. "My dear, I have never set foot in your _boudoir_ without you and have no plans to in the near future," he told her quite believably. "Additionally, if I were to "booby-trap" your room, I would do so to the door and the window, for simply observing you in your room would do nothing for my ensuring that you are safe."

"So, you don't?" she confirmed, realising he never gave a definitive answer.

"I don't," he nodded, looking at her in a way that had her _thinking_ she believed him. Then again, he pretended to be Bishop's for six months, so could she really believe that face?

"Good," her face went back to being entirely impassive. "Therefore, if the pair of you have such a desire to take the limo, take it. I'll meet you there in all of five minutes – if it makes you happy, I'll even let you drive along next to me," she grinned suddenly, lunging for the door and unbolting it with the speed of a vampire – or faster, actually, since she managed to get out of the door without either of them bringing her back.

_Yes_, she thought as she ran out into the sun, breathing in the scent of fresh air and freshly cut grass, looking around at the bit of Morganville she always described as "the lush piece of Europe".

That was, however, until Myrnin grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the shade. "What did we say?" he growled, not even flinching as the midday sun hit him square on – he was old enough to walk the entire way with her in the sun to the police station, rather than trying to make her go by car.

"I think we said that unless you allow me to walk, I was quitting," she looked at him full on, quivering slightly even with her position as she looked at the look of absolute fury on his face.

"No," he said, very obviously making himself calm down before he either attacked her or broke her arm. "I believe the comments were that _you are not to leave alone_."

"And I think I _just_ said that, as the head of the town, I get to decide what I do, not you," she snapped back, forgetting the fact that she was nice little Claire and instead just being a bitch to try and get her own way.

He shook his head slowly, a look of disappointment on his face. "Claire, we agreed that myself and Gérard would be in charge of your security, for you are absolutely unable to protect yourself. You are a naïve child, Claire; you have no idea of the dangers that face you in this job – but we do. This is for _your_ protection, so don't dispute it," he explained to her, a level of concern for her palpable in his voice.

"All I want to do is walk in the sun," her lower lip quivered as she looked away from him, unable to face reading the emotions evident in his near black eyes.

"I know," he replied, his voice surprisingly gentle. "I understand the limitations of this job-"

"Stop," she ordered him and, much to her continued surprise, he obeyed. "I am not a vampire; I can walk in the sun. One _short_ journey, Myrnin, and you can walk with me. Please…" she begged and could tell he was at least beginning to relent.

"One walk," he agreed, noises of disdain and disparagement issuing from where her bodyguard stood, "but then, Claire, you must accept this life. You have the night to do as you please – with Gérard, Sam or myself. This is the one and only time I shall allow this."

But, she knew that if she had gotten him to do it once, she could manage it again.

_~x~_

Mere minutes later, she arrived at her destination, Myrnin slightly grumpy about the sunlight but realising that it was the only way he would ever perhaps dispel the "I'm going to quit" feeling from Claire. She had gotten what she wanted; perhaps it would make her more amicable to her new life.

The sun was glorious upon her skin, sending rivulets of light dancing over the almost translucent colouring of her outer membrane. The perfection of the near cloudless blue sky engrained itself in her mind as she saw every detail she would normally class as too unimportant to catalogue.

The way that the poppies danced in the wind; the way that the blades of grass were perfectly symmetrical and rippled at the same time every time a whisper of wind crossed them. The clarity of the air, not too polluted like big towns, was a fresh breeze upon her skin, the smell of pollen in the air.

The majority of this would be lost to her in the dark; each and every detail obscured as night fell and brought out the most dangerous of monsters. It was with a heavy heart that she pushed open the door to the police station and was greeted by the familiar darkened room, lit simply by electric lighting.

"He is through there," the woman on the reception indicated where Hollis was waiting for Claire. once again inside, Gérard caught up to Claire and walked in front of her as they approached the vampire-proofed (apparently) cell, Myrnin wandering off to complain about the sunlight damage that was nonexistent.

Cautious as she followed Gérard, Claire walked through into the area where, enclosed in a silver cage, Hollis snarled and lunged as he tried to reach anyone to vent his anger on.

"Enough," Gérard said coolly, looking at the other vampire with an air of superiority. "The…head of the town is here to see you," he changed tact midway through, remembering Claire's preference to name herself the head of the town rather than Founder – after all, she _was_ the 'Founder' (for want of a better word). Whilst she, for lack of experience, had no control over her security situation, she controlled _everything_ else – including everyone in Morganville.

Hollis looked at her disdainfully, shaking his head as he refused to accept that Claire was the leader. "No, you're wrong," he directly challenged both Claire and Gérard. "She's _human_. I hardly deem that the criteria for Amelie's successor."

Snarling, he lunged for Claire, but Gérard simply stepped in front of her, raising one hand and throwing the other vampire across the room.

"I can quite assure you, Hollis, that I am the one for the job," Claire said, her voice slightly too friendly, she realised too late. "Not only am I the only one, yet I already had the beginnings of what to do from Amelie when she was still alive, so my status as a human ought not to matter," she continued, lying slightly because, as far as she could see, Amelie hadn't prepared her for anything of the sort.

Appeased slightly, Hollis stopped trying to fight back and simply sat on the far side of the cell, looking at her. "So, _Madame Founder_," he sneered the title of Amelie, most likely trying to disturb Claire. It worked. "_Do_ tell me what you are going to do for me to get me out of this hovel."

"Nothing," she replied instantly, knowing she had to answer like this in order to keep the humans appeased. "You broke the law and you know from the speech the other night that humans and vampires are to be treat according to the same rules, therefore you suffer the same punishment as a human would in this instance…actually, I lie. A human would be killed for this, but I shall simply see you are imprisoned for one _very_ long time," she told him in a matter of fact tone, watching as his face darkened. Evidently, he didn't agree with her logic.

"No," he snarled at her, lunging once again as he forgot that Gérard would step in front of Claire to protect her every time. This wasn't wrong; as soon as Hollis began to take moves that could end up being offensive against Claire, he was in action, moving forwards to incapacitate the vampire, whom _angry_ would be an understatement to describe his feelings.

Unfortunately for both Claire and Gérard, Hollis being angry meant he had extra strength – evidently, even vampires got adrenaline rushes. So he managed to dodge Gérard's restraining arm and began his advance towards Claire, who froze. Forgetting every single lesson she had ever been taught, by the Glass House, by Amelie in terms of Myrnin, everything she had learnt about vampires – even her natural instincts – failed her. She simply stood still, waiting for him to grab her – something which he would have done if Gérard hadn't whipped around and grabbed him from behind.

"That, miss, is what you are going to be facing from many," he told Claire in a matter-of-fact tone before calling for other vampire guards (most likely including Claire's _best _friends, Hans and Gretchen) to come and take the rogue vampire into the dungeons where the old infected vampires went.

"Even vampires?" Claire shook herself as he returned to stand before her, his eyes trained on her face to watch her reaction. She was suitably scared, he decided, now that she knew what would be facing her.

"Even vampires…_especially_ vampires," he continued, knowing that, as her bodyguard, he would have to be honest with her. "Miss, they already are not happy about the small change – small for _you_ – that you are already implementing. I have heard that they simply thought you were joking; however, your movements today shall prove to them that you mean equality across the board for both vampires and humans. You are at more risk than you were perhaps yesterday."

She groaned, stepping out of the celled room that if a vampire couldn't escape from, she'd have had no chance. "Guess that the return to normal life sort of disappeared again, huh?" she sighed as they made their way down towards where Myrnin abandoned them before.

Her bodyguard had no need to reply, for he knew she knew the answer. So they continued back to the foyer of the police station in silence, Claire deliberating internally just _how_ much her life had changed even further in those few moments.

"Why hello, dear Claire," Myrnin appeared suddenly beside her, a grin on his face. "I presume that you have no plans to walk home from here?" he continued, nodding along as she agreed.

"I don't," she whispered, fear in her eyes as she contemplated the idea that there could be more than that one vampire against her – what if her first official move as "Founder" had enraged every vampire against her?

"Good," he responded, walking with her to the door. "I don't fancy that walk again, though it was rather pleasant to see the sun again…even if it did burn my eyes," ever the melodramatic one, Myrnin continued to complain about his 'sunburn' all the way in the limo back to the office.

_Maybe I'll just get a gym_, Claire decided as she walked back into her office and sat down.

She then looked up at Myrnin, who continued to stand on the far side of the room. "Feel like helping me?" she asked, but he instantly shook his head.

"Oh _God_ no," he raised his hands as he began to back away. "In all honesty, Claire, everything I know I have taught you. I always stay as far away from politics as possible; quite frankly, it's a disgusting subject," and, with that, he ran out of the room.

_Of course_, she thought, slightly bitterly, as she pulled the keyboard out. _He_ got to go do the fun science – as he had with Amelie, he ran away when the going got tougher, or out of his interest zone.

She had plans where she wanted to take the town, of course she did. And now, she decided, now was the time to begin to implement them…


	11. Decisions

_Chapter 11:_

The weeks passed and Claire began to get into the role of being the Founder of Morganville more and more, accepting that she couldn't get out of it now, due to the many promises she had made to oh so many people, inclusive of Myrnin, Sam and…Amelie.

Every night, Claire hoped, _begged_, for another dream where Amelie was there, wanted another chance to speak to the woman who had her town in the possession of someone who knew even less about running a town than Amelie knew about the ins and outs of CSI: Miami. She wanted to know whether or not she was doing a good enough job, wanted to know how mad Amelie would have been at the decision to make humans and vampires almost equal.

More than that, she wanted a chance to ask Amelie all the questions she didn't know how to ask last time, didn't have the ability to due to the shock of seeing the dead woman. _Next time, it'll be Oliver turning up to put me off again_, she couldn't help but think wryly, wondering when she would next get a chance to talk to Amelie. It was becoming an obsession on a night to wish for the chance to go back to the park and talk to the woman, an obsession to think every time she signed a piece of paper consenting a marriage, or allowing a child to practise a slightly violent sport, if Amelie would have permitted it.

It wasn't healthy, yet it was all she knew to do, all she could hope to do – she wasn't a politician! She had always dreamt of being a scientist, of discovering a new element or how time travel works, and now she had had her dream robbed from her by the way she had been roped into being the Founder of the town.

"CB, dinner's ready!" Eve called through to the living room, the smell of tacos wafting back from the kitchen. They hadn't had chilli since Shane had walked out and it was strange how Claire seemed to miss the food more than Shane. He hadn't cared for the way she had accepted the job so easily (even though she hadn't) and she couldn't help but hate him for that. Now he wasn't even there with her to support her – as far as she was concerned, he may as well have been dead to her.

She walked through to the kitchen and took her place at the table, wondering if she should bother to take any food up to Gérard. Last time she had, the night before, he hadn't been there and she supposed he had his own house and that he could quite easily move back through if he needed her. After all, she hadn't tried to do a disappearing act – _yet_ – and she hadn't been pressing to go out in the sun, so he evidently didn't feel as obliged to stay. Claire was sure that he didn't stay in Amelie's house, so for him to stay with her wouldn't be part of the arrangement after the beginning – if she needed protection, she had Michael.

"I doubt grumpy bodyguard would want any food, even if he was here," Eve seemed to be able to read Claire's thoughts. "He's too busy disappearing to explain to some dude who rang him about why you weren't working," she continued, confirming her abilities as a mind reader because that was Claire's next question – where is he?

"But it's a _Saturday_," she groaned, wondering if the job would be taking over her life. To catch up on all the work since before Bishop arrived had taken her three weeks now and she knew that there was now work coming in that was new to be dealing with – but she deserved a day off, so a day off was what she had. All she had done was catch up on her sleep, do her chores and read one of the books Myrnin had given her what felt like yonks ago, just relaxing pretty much. She hadn't even left the house, something that she hadn't done for almost as long as she had had the book for. Part of her had wanted to go hang out in the lab, but she decided against it, thinking that she would end up using more brain power in there than she would if she had done her actual job, even just asking about the machine. Sometime in the future, she would have to go back into the lab and get that information, maybe even helping to upgrade Ada, but, for now, she was content with knowing it worked.

"Evidently there's no rest for those who run towns, Claire," Eve sighed, heaping food onto the girl's plate. "Eat up or know that I shall be stalking you at every mealtime to make sure you scoff something down that gob of yours," she threatened, something that only made Claire laugh.

"Yeah, because you're _really_ going to be up when I eat breakfast," she smiled, shaking her head as she took a drink of water.

"Fine, Michael can be in charge there," Eve didn't skip a beat as she said this calmly, causing the laughter to cease. "The Ice Queen may have been able to skip every meal but that was because she supped on the plasma, so something tells me that you're not going to be able to go that road," she continued, the atmosphere turning dangerously cold as soon as she spoke, both Claire and Michael freezing in place. None of them had mentioned Amelie outright in the house since the funeral, let alone use one of the derogatory names _Shane _had created for her.

Claire scraped her chair back, suddenly not hungry and the devastated expression on Eve's face made her realise what a colossal mistake she had made. "Claire, sweetie, I didn't mean it like that," she called after her but Claire didn't stop on her way to her room.

She slammed the door before locking it and curled up on her bed, allowing the tears to come through. "Can't you come back?" she begged Amelie, not needing to use her name because she knew she was addressing the dead woman. "I don't want this," she continued, tears blocking her throat off from saying anymore.

She went to sleep, half expecting a dream from Amelie to tell her that she _could_ do it, to help her make a decision – well, her second one.

But none came.

_~x~_

Claire woke up the next morning and sighed, knowing she had overreacted the night before at Eve's harmless comment that, before all this had happened, she would have laughed along with. She would have agreed…but now, with Amelie gone, it felt too harsh to say. But what could she do _but_ overreact, when she was still so tense about being in this position?

She stretched out and turned to see that the time was barely seven am.

And she was wide awake.

Great.

Clambering out of bed, Claire decided that she may as well get on with some work because evidently Amelie was having too much fun playing chess in 'heaven', or wherever she was, to come and help her out with some hard decisions. Sure, she had managed to ensure that there was pretty much equality with the humans and vampires – in law, at least – and order that no more applications for hunting humans could be put in, yet she hadn't actually done anything in regards to the running of a town. All she had done was ensure that the constituents were pretty appeased…and her actions, so far, had been entirely towards the humans. She hadn't arranged anything about the flu vaccine she had a feeling should be done soon, hadn't done _anything_ – and she had nobody to tell her what to do, nothing to even guide her in the right direction. She had a crazy vampire scientist, a bodyguard who knew how Amelie ran things basically and then a man whose only connection to the running of the town was being in love with the person who did!

"Gérard?" she called his name up the stairs to the secret room softly as she walked out, wondering if she would have to call him or whatever to find him. However, he emerged near instantly, looking more awake than she felt, a slight frown on his face.

"Yes, miss?" he inquired, running down the stairs (or at least she presumed he did) to be stood in front of her in less than one second.

"I was planning on going into the office in about half an hour, so I was just checking that that was alright with you?" all the defiance gone from her, she was back to the pretty meek and mild girl she had been for the majority of her life.

"I shall be ready when you are ready to leave, miss," he confirmed, turning back to the secret room as though he wanted to prepare to leave. Not that he could exactly get more prepared, Claire thought, since he was dressed in the exact same outfit as he wore every day.

"See you soon!" she smiled, heading downstairs to grab something to eat before she got ready. As she walked into the kitchen, she found Michael sitting there, reading the paper (sports section, naturally) and drinking a cup of coffee.

"Hey, Claire," he said as she walked in, evidently still a bit apprehensive after last night. "Are you alright?"

She smiled back, trying to alleviate his tension, and nodded, pouring herself a mug of very milky coffee to drink as she sat there. "Sorry about…last night," she muttered, finding her pot of chocolate spread in the cupboard and starting to spread it over some bread without bothering to toast it. "I just got a little…crazy, that's all, if you know what I mean," she managed to smile ever so slightly and he nodded back, as if he understood what she meant. But, in her heart, she knew that he had absolutely no idea what she meant because he had never been in the situation she was in.

"It's fine Claire, really," he responded, using that vampire litheness to get her a plate out the cupboard before she could even move. "I heard you telling Mr Bodyguard that you're wanting to work now," he continued, grinning with the new, entirely unoriginal, nickname he had just came up with for Gérard.

"_Entirely_ unoriginal," she laughed along with him, scoffing down the chocolate spread sandwich she had hastily folded in two because she was starving. "Jeez, Michael, can you not at least come up with something a _bit_ more original than 'Mr Bodyguard'?" she carried on, unable to help herself from insulting what he said.

His eyes narrowed as he plucked the last bit of her hastily made chocolate sandwich, ignoring her protests as he ate it. "Go ahead and give another name for him then, little miss genius," he shot back, pouring himself another cup of coffee as he spoke. "Oh and when you're making new rules for the town, can you make sure that you make everyone come for guitar lessons? I want some more customers," he was laughing but she had the feeling that he was struggling for business somehow, even though he was a well known _amazing_ musician.

"Sure will, Michael; it'll be law for next week," she grinned before realising she should probably get ready. "Right, well, I'm off to go get ready but I'll see you after I've spent the day making this town absolutely perfect," the sarcasm in her tone was entirely obvious - only an absolute idiot would have been able to miss it.

"See you later, Claire," he called as she walked out of the kitchen. "Oh and if you expect there to be any chocolate spread left later, don't!" he continued, causing her to spin around and flash him the finger before running back up the stairs.

_~x~_

Later that morning, she faced a dilemma, one that had her having to weigh up the humans versus the vampires properly for the first time since she had became 'Founder'. It was the time for her to decide where to take the town forwards for herself, not just for the benefit of the humans – after all, equality of rights was something that _must_ have been on the horizon before; it wasn't a particularly new idea. No, it was time for her to make the decision as to what she would change to ensure Morganville was a better place for both humans and vampires…and she had to start with making things better for humans. Vampires had had it easy for far too long – for the town's entire history – and it was Claire's turn to make things better for _her_ people, if she wanted to coin the phrase Amelie had used previously.

No, it was a necessary thing for her to do and it had to be done soon, otherwise her position as Founder may be started to be questioned. After all, she had been in the job for weeks now and had only affected little (in the bigger picture they remained small) things around Morganville. And whilst being Founder had never been on her priority list (it had never even crossed her mind before the final fight), she had to make the best of it now. She'd already given up Shane for it – there wasn't much more she _could_ give up to make sure that she did a good job.

She looked up to see whether or not Gérard was in the room or not as to make her mind up in regards to banging her head on the desk. It was the new one she had ordered – pretty and glass – and it seemed as if it would make a pretty good surface for her to try and knock some brain cells into her so she could actually make a decision about _something_. In all honesty, she didn't care whether or not it was a decision for humans or for vampires (though the first choice would be the preferable one) so long as _something_ had changed in Morganville – and preferably within the next hour or so.

Just then, the portal door opened and bundling in came Myrnin, naturally, with a bundle of sheets and other pieces of paper that looked almost destroyed to Claire. "What the hell are you doing in here with all that rubbish – no_, don't_ put it there, Myrnin, I just cleaned it!" Claire called across as Myrnin made to dump the entire pile of crap on the table she had just cleaned – cleaning was what she did to try and make a decision…it just didn't work.

"No need for that tone, m'dear," Myrnin replied, slightly affronted, yet Claire cared nought for that. "Now, I simply thought you may be interested to see these old papers I found from _many_ years ago, just around the conception of Morganville I believe," he continued, continuing to hold the piles in his hand yet rummaging around somehow to extract one for her.

Her intrigue sparked, she moved around the desk warily to approach, remembering the last time she touched something of Myrnin's that was old – she got a UV bomb to the face, something that continued to haunt her memories. "This isn't going to kill me to touch is it?" she confirmed warily, her hand outstretched to touch it.

Myrnin merely chuckled in response and pushed the paper into her hand. "Of course not, my dear, it is merely a map of the town," he shrugged as he handed her it. "I mean the original town – there has been a great amount of expansion over the past century or so, yet the essence remains the same."

She couldn't tell why he had given her the map, presuming he was having a de-clutter (rare for Mr I-keep-everything-incase-it-could-be-valuable) and that he had given her this as a little memorabilia to what she has never had.

"Um, well, thanks Myrnin," she smiled slightly as she unfurled the map, her eyes locking instantly on the Square in the middle – Founder's Square.

It was as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders as her eyes raked over the map, almost confirming that this was the path she wished to take in regards to her movement on of the town. A fresh era could dawn on Founder's Square, allow the exquisite nature of the area to be shared by all inhabitants of Morganville and not just vampires.

"Whatever are you doing now, Claire?" he inquired, evidently wondering why she was walking back to her desk and pulling her laptop out without bothering to talk to him anymore.

"I am making an executive decision as Founder," she murmured, typing furiously on the laptop as she wrote out the basic idea for the memo she would then send onto Richard to send to Hannah to enforce…something like that, she figured. That, or she could give it to her bodyguard to pass on – but no, she wanted to do something for herself for a change, as if she didn't have anyone to rely on.

As if, in a way, she was Amelie.

"_Another_ one for the humans?" Myrnin sounded shocked as he zoomed across the room to read the computer screen from behind Claire. "Dear me, Claire, I don't mean to try and tell you what to do, yet you may have an uprising on your hands," he murmured the last part, evidently feeling he had overstepped his boundaries…which, if it were Amelie, he would have.

However, it was only Claire and she wanted every bit of advice she could get. "What do you mean, an uprising?" she asked in horror, focusing on Myrnin for a moment rather than the screen. "I'm giving them equality – what more could they want?"

He smiled ever so slightly and shook his head, sighing as he did so. "Not from the humans, Claire, but the vampires: they have had control of the town since it was started and now to be expected to share _everything_ with humans may be…a little much," he frowned at the end, trailing off into a train of thought Claire had an inkling she didn't want to know about.

"You know what, Myrnin, perhaps you're right," she conceded, yet didn't allow her iron rod of steel to bend as she stood firm. "They've had _everything_ they wanted for the past however long and now they're just mad because they have to share. It's called _equality_, Myrnin, something perhaps you've never came across but I have. And I'm damned sure that it's going to happen in Morganville if it's my town."

He nodded this time, a sudden respectful edge to everything he did as she looked at him. The strangest of feelings was that she could almost feel something pulsating around her body, an extra course of adrenaline she didn't require: she presumed that this was the power she had, the power to be able to control those in her town – and that included Myrnin. It included everyone she had around her that she was close to…she could make anyone, pretty much, do anything she wanted.

"Of course, Claire, I didn't mean to insinuate you couldn't," he continued in the same manner, respect pouring out that made Claire want to cringe. Yet she was strong and made sure that she didn't betray a chance that she could change her mind or hate the respect because then he would be making her change this before she could even say her own name. "I must be off now, so I shall see you whenever you are ready to see me," he continued, running out of the door before she could say another word.

Sighing, she refocused on her legislation, hurriedly typing line after line as she aimed to finish it before dinner so that she could go home and eat with her friends.

_~x~_

As she headed home that night with her bodyguard, she thought that things were finally peaceful, that she would have everyone pretty reasonably happy for a while.

She thought wrong.


	12. Resolution

_Chapter 12:_

The morning dawned fresh and new and yet it was not a reflection upon what the day would become. No, this day was going to be the beginning of the antics against Claire, the first day when she didn't feel she had the full control over the town.

Yet it didn't begin like that. When Claire woke up, all she could think of was the benefits that her plan could conceivably bring to Morganville, the chance for the vampires and humans to mingle in ways that they had never mingled before. All she could see was the chance for there to be _positive_ change in Morganville, in opposition to the changes that they had gone through under Bishop. Whilst she didn't particularly relish thinking about what had happened then, she knew that whatever she did would have to both counteract that period of time as well as bring about the new, _joined_ approach that she wanted to introduce into Morganville.

Things would have to begin to change quicker than they were doing. Now she had had a taste of power, Claire was finding it more and more to her liking – but not in a way that would mean she could be called power hungry. No, Claire found herself eager to instigate change within Morganville, begin to modify and replace systems that existed, yet faster than she would have done before. Now, she was more comfortable in her position and even though she was worried that her actions may lead to an uprising from the vampires – something much harder to control than from humans, she hated to admit – she had to soothe her own conscience, to know she had done everything she could to create a balance of equality in Morganville.

"Morning, Claire!" Eve almost sang as Claire walked into the kitchen for breakfast that morning. "Coffee is in the pot!" she continued in the same voice, one which had Claire wondering just _how_ many cups of coffee Eve had managed to consume in the short period of time she had been downstairs before herself.

"What's with you this morning?" Claire asked, intrigued why Eve could be so happy at…nine oh four in the morning. Something was definitely awry at this, something which had Claire slightly concerned in a friendly sort of manner. Eve being alert when she was normally comatose was _not_ a sign for a major, town wide alert panic to be spread.

"Nothing…just woke up this morning and felt as if I should sing to the world about how brilliant the day is," she replied, taking a small mug of coffee and sipping it slowly as she stood there.

"Well please _don't_, Eve; you're only going to scare away half the town," Michael joked, standing in the kitchen as if he had been there all along. No matter how much time she spent with vampires – and there was _plenty _more spent than she perhaps desired – it was still disconcerting at the speed by which they moved. But that wasn't the issue that morning; no, Michael walking too quickly into a room was normal for them.

"Bite me, bloodsucker!" was Eve's extremely mature response, especially as to who it was being given _to_. "Just because I'm a better singer than you doesn't mean that you have to criticise my plans!"

All Michael could do was look shocked, unable to muster enough emotion to change his expression. "Darling, please, _don't_ start singing out in the street for everyone to hear," he urged, whilst Claire suppressed a laugh and hid a smile. She knew exactly what Michael was alluding to; when singing, Eve's voice turned into a sound akin to a cat screaming, and was not something she wanted to be sharing with the entire town of Morganville. Unfortunately, whilst accepting that she shouldn't be singing, Eve took the reason why in completely the wrong direction.

"Aww, you're too sweet, Michael," she grinned, reaching out to give him a hug. "You're right, my talent is too good for this town…no offence, Claire, since it's your town now, but still," she continued, turning back towards Claire whilst also moving towards Michael, an impressive feat.

Claire and Michael merely exchanged amused looks, neither of them daring to contradict Eve, for fear of the wrath of her tongue – and it was too early in the morning for that!

"So, what are your plans for today, oh mighty ruler?" Michael turned to Claire and spoke with more than a touch of sarcasm to his tone, at the same time as reaching out for the toast on the side. Having finished creeping them out for the morning, Eve yelled she was going to work and walked out of the house sounding as if she was _humming_; this was not right for the girl who hated to get up in the morning!

All Claire did was narrow her eyes, still too tired to formulate a witty response, as she usually was in a morning. Whilst she was more of a morning person than Eve – normally – ever since she had moved into the Glass House, she had found it harder and harder to force herself to get up when she used to find it easy.

"Nothing much," she said finally, when it became clear he wanted an answer of some sort. "Just, you know, paperwork, planning a new building, organising a NATO airstrike with some of the rockets Myrnin stockpiled incase of nuclear war in the sixties, you know, the usual," she grinned, wondering if he'd fall for the NATO airstrike card.

He did, of course.

Spluttering out an entire mouthful of coffee, Michael looked horrified. "_Rockets_? Are you serious? We have to get someone, tell…" he trailed off, most likely saying to tell Amelie, before he remembered that, now, the Founder was before him. There was nobody he could run to in order to sprag on her, mainly because _she_ was the boss.

"No, I'm _joking_, Michael, _jeez_," she laughed as she took another swig of coffee to try and liven her up a bit more. "You fall for the simplest of things."

He didn't bother to respond to this, merely poured himself another drink and ate some of the toast Eve had left for him. "You ok?" he spoke suddenly, causing Claire to jump with the seemingly randomness of the question.

"Yeah, fine," she replied after only the briefest of pauses. "I mean, we're sort of settling into a time of normality, aren't we? Things are…well, they're not _brilliant_, but they have the potential to be."

As Sam did before, Michael grimaced. Because whenever _Claire_ said that things were ok, it was known that they would turn the other way quicker than you could even blink.

_~x~_

Still, things started well that day. Not long after Michael thought that she had jinxed them all, Claire left to go to work. Whilst she knew _technically_ that she could basically work her own hours, Claire realised that it wouldn't be setting a good precedent and, let's face it, she had the biggest pile of work to get through. None of which, she added to her defence of going to work early (the internal debate, naturally), since she couldn't do any of it until she'd figured out where she wanted to take the town. Most of the work she was doing was conditional on just _what_ options she chose to take in terms of the human and vampire residents of Morganville.

So Claire started: they left the house at almost ten am, moving by portal into her office where, finally, it was beginning to take shape. All her ordered goods had been put into place and she knew where everything was; there was the order that she liked to be able to work through her thoughts methodically, with spider diagrams laying out her plans she had for the town.

On this map, there were things such as harsher penalties for vampires caught breaking the "no biting unless consented" rule – Claire was informed she had to allow the consenting article, as part of vampire/human relationships – and opening areas of the town previously vampire occupied to all. No longer were vampires to be allowed to own all the businesses in town; they had to be owned by the person who ran them, though part of the profits would continue to go to the vampire until they could find themselves a job. Vampires no longer got the best housing complexes and more voluntary blood donating was to be set up – all things Claire _knew_ were possible now she had this power.

Though she would never admit it now, because he'd left her, Claire was sort of doing part of this for Shane. She hoped that maybe, just maybe, if he saw how much she was doing for their race now she was in charge, he would judge her less harshly for accepting the job in the first place – _not_, however, that she had had any choice in the matter whatsoever. But now…now, she knew that she was doing it for the good of _her_, for the good of the citizens of Morganville of whom she now ruled. She had to make things fair and just for _everyone _in a town which had no right to deem a minority of its residents more important than the rest.

"Claire?" Myrnin's voice startled Claire as she looked up from her plans to see the curly haired alchemist standing in front of her. "Are those your plans?" he continued without even greeting her, something which caused Claire to narrow her eyes in almost frustration.

Then, she thought wickedly, she would play a game with him. So, she clutched the plans to her chest and prayed that being the Founder would mean that he couldn't prise them from her.

"Oh, so it's straight into work is it?" she said, trying to sound hysterical. "No good _morning_, Claire, how are you this fine day? No how did you sleep? No what was on the television last night? _Nothing_. Just straight into boring old work. Well, this is _not_ good enough, Myrnin, and I refuse to accept this!" she wondered just how impressive her performance was, to see if Myrnin would fall for it.

As she looked up at him, she saw his crinkled brow and confused expression, and knew she had won.

"I don't know what has gotten into you, Claire, but are you feeling quite alright?" he asked her, having no clue as to why she was behaving the way she was.

Then her face broke out into a grin, and he knew, somewhere, that he'd been had. "I just wanted to see if you would fall for it," she explained. "I feel fine. But you're not seeing these plans, not over my dead body."

She could tell what he desired to retort with – "That can quite easily be arranged" – but knew why he held himself back, proving that even _Myrnin_ could restrain himself in certain situations. To joke about killing the replacement Founder wasn't the brightest idea, especially given the continued tense situation with regards to how her appointment occurred.

He narrowed his eyes as he observed the girl he now worked for…in this location, at least. Even if she wanted to, Claire doubted that she would be able to influence anything in the laboratory, unless she managed to create a machine that put him entirely under her will. Or if she experimented with her power – and that was something she did _not_ want to do.

"Claire, you know I _have_ to see them," he tried to wheedle with her to make her show him them. "It is a well known fact that rulers have a most trusted advisor who helps them with their plans in the final stages, just to make sure that they're viable-" she cut him off, no longer seeming as happy as she was before.

"_No_, don't dare say that my plans can be unviable," she snapped. "You would never have done that to…_Amelie_, so you can't do it to me. I didn't want this job but you made me take it and now that I'm making things go _my_ way, you can't try and make me stop." After saying Amelie's name for the first time since she died, Claire's voice rose and rose to pitches higher than she had probably ever gone to.

"Claire, I never said that I wanted to _change_ your plans, I merely desire to look at them," Myrnin replied in a soothing voice, trying to placate her. It was one of the first times since it had been Myrnin calming _Claire_ and not the other way around.

He began to walk closer towards her, reaching out with a hand slowly to try and calm her down. It was only then, as she saw his concerned face, that she realised she was shaking – but from what, she didn't have a clue. It had gone from being fun and games to her overreacting about him – someone who had sworn to help her on _her_ request – wanting to see plans for the town that he would know about soon enough.

For the first time, she realised just _what_ immense stress Amelie had been under. And, also for the first time, she could sort of begin to see why Amelie was the way she was.

Slowly, she nodded. "Sorry. I…I guess I overreacted over nothing." She let out a huge breath of air and closed her eyes. "There's not even any reason for it. Probably just that I've worked so hard on these plans and they _have_ to happen; I have to make them happen." She tried to quantify her reactions, though even she wasn't entirely sure what had happened – or why.

"Can I see?" he asked her gently, stopping almost a metre in front of her.

"Sure," she replied, mustering a smile as she looked at him head on. "Just don't think about destroying them if you don't like them. I have copies and I'll get _pretty_ mad," she laughed slightly, but it was a flat, hard sound, one that was nothing like her usual laugh. She sounded strained, as though as soon as she walked through the door into this office, she was trying to be someone serious, someone trying to make their mark on the place.

Little did she know that just being herself would be the best solution. That was something that Claire didn't learn for a very, _very_ long time.

Gingerly, she handed them out towards Myrnin and waited for him to take them from her, equally as carefully; it was almost as if he was scared of breaking her, something which never normally happened. If she looked in the mirror, she would see why: there was something in her face that was guarded, an emotion of near instability that Myrnin thought was threatening to overcome her. She looked, in a word, _frightened_.

He didn't know why; if she thought these plans were so good, she would have no need to be frightened, yet Myrnin wouldn't ever pretend to know what was going on in Claire's mind. Ever since she had staked him that day when he was under the absolute control of the disease, he realised that she was more complex than he could begin to comprehend.

As Myrnin flicked through the papers, Claire stood anxiously, waiting for him to tell her his thoughts. The longer he read it, the more anxious it made her, made her wonder if he didn't agree with what she thought were good ideas. What she _knew_ were good ideas – at least, she conceded with her internal self – good ideas for the _human_ population of Morganville.

"Very…_interesting_," was the only way that Myrnin could put his thoughts into words, without insulting the plans. He handed them back to her neatly, arranged into an orderly pile, yet didn't make eye contact. "I can see definite strengths in there, most certainly."

Claire narrowed _her_ eyes this time, rather than it being Myrnin narrowing his. "You don't like them." She didn't need to guess; she was astute enough, particularly with Myrnin, to know when he was concealing emotions.

"I'm not going to tell you what to do, since you evidently don't want that," he shot back, therefore showing that he _was_ hiding something. Well, not hiding, since Claire had realised it…more…concealing the truth from her.

"What is it?" she asked flatly, sinking into the comfortable chair behind her desk. As soon as she sat, Myrnin moved to sit in the chair in front of her, a tense expression on his face. "Let me guess, they're too _human_ for you. Too human focused, I mean," she corrected herself, realising that her prior statement made no sense whatsoever.

He paused, unsure how to word what he wanted to say. "Not…not _too_ human, just…you don't have a counter balance." He tried to argue back, but Claire was sure that it was just because he was a vampire himself. "Go for everything you, as leader, want to do; that is what makes a leader great. But remember that there are vampires in Morganville who won't be willing to accept these changes at _all_, if not given a little…titbit, shall we say."

She knew exactly what he meant: she had to go halfway and announce these rules less stringently, or perhaps even abolish some of them all together, to give the vampires a feeling of equality, just to prevent them attacking her. In her jumbled mind, it did sort of make sense. After all, they were her citizens as well…but they had had their way for so long now, Claire felt that she couldn't give them anything.

It was a hard decision to counterbalance between the forces in Morganville, and she now realised just how hard it would have been for her predecessor to make the decisions that influenced humans more positively. If, Claire thought bitterly, there were any of them at all.

"I'm going to go for it," she decided impulsively, deciding to go for what she wanted to do. "Let's get them announced straight away, Myrnin. And no editing: they're going out as they are."

"Can I see your plans for helping…or, rather, placating vampires?" Myrnin asked her suddenly, as Claire was standing up and moving to the back of her office. She stopped and turned back around, frowning slightly.

"Uh…_what_?"

"You know, since you're going to have to balance the stone at _some_ point, Claire, I'm interested to see what you're giving to the vampires," he held his ground as she stared at him, her eyes not worrying him like Amelie's did. He knew that this girl had potential, yet she was nowhere near there since she didn't even understand her own people.

"I don't have any." She was honest as she answered, deciding to not conceal things. "If – and that's a conditional term, Myrnin – I need them, I'll cobble something together. Until then, however, I'm not doing anything. Let _them_ suffer, like humans have for the entire existence of Morganville, before they get even a little something for them."

Nothing had been announced yet, no uproar from the vampires, yet Myrnin knew that the day was already a bad day for Claire. And, by association, for him.

Little did he know what was coming after lunch.

_Amelie's POV:_

I watch down in a quiet style as Claire makes the decision to change things in Morganville for the benefit of humans.

Unfortunately, I have Oliver by my side.

Snorting, he says, "She's going to have an uprising on her hands. Stupid girl, whoever put _her_ in charge of Morganville?"

Growling at him slightly, I shoot him a dirty look and stand up, moving away from the almost "viewing hole" on the side of this place I now call home to sit down at the chess table. It is the only hobby I have now, something which frightens me slightly, for it shows just how much I put into the town.

"She is merely doing what _I_ did all those years ago, Oliver. Something you wouldn't know about since you were not in Morganville."

"She's going to destroy the place, something _we_ died to prevent happening with Bishop. We've died for nothing, Amelie!"

"I died for Sam. I don't know why _you_ died, but it was probably because you didn't play your part very well," I shoot back acerbically, not able to believe what he is saying. "Anyway, she cannot learn from me merely _telling_ her my mistakes; she must learn from making them herself, something which complicates matters."

As Oliver sits down opposite me, I move my white queen to a position which, if he makes the move I expect him to, will result in a checkmate – my victory.

"This is a risky game you're playing, Amelie," he murmurs, making a slightly different move to what I anticipated. Yet it doesn't complicate matters _greatly_.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Oliver. After all, we are _dead_. There isn't much chance of me getting up and returning to lead Morganville to a more unstable place, is there?"

He smiles ever so slightly, his fingers on the black piece in front of him, something which matches the inside of his body, I believe: unchanging, unyielding, oppressive. He's not the most pleasant companion, something which worries me for I have all of eternity with him, I fear.

"You're playing a game, Amelie, and you're expecting it to work out perfectly," he looks me right in the eyes, moving a piece as he does so. "And it won't; you can't always be perfect, Amelie."

As I look down, I notice where his piece is. He outmanoeuvred me, has left me in a state of considerable weakness, yet it could be just escapable…possibly.

"Check."


	13. Confrontation

_Chapter 13:_

* * *

><p>In a nutshell, Claire was pretty impressed with what she'd managed to organise in just a few hours: she had completely finished sorting her office out, she had ordered all her plans to be issued to the populace of Morganville, and she had even had time to tell Myrnin that he was wrong about one of his theories in regards to the experiment they had done the day before. It had gone quite well, that morning; there had been no reaction to anything – even though, in her mind, she knew that there couldn't be, since nothing had been released – and there was no nervous fretting on Claire's behalf about the reaction to what she wanted publishing.<p>

And when she said that she wanted it widespread, she _meant_ it; it was all over the town radio, the TV channel and flyers that were being handed out to everyone. Some of the police officers had been commissioned to post them through the doors of _every_ resident in town – though Claire had admitted it would be advisable that vampire officers delivered the notices to the vampire residences – and she was confident that the effects of her actions would be able to be felt within the next few hours.

So there was no issue, in her mind, that she should relax over lunch; there wasn't going to be a negative view to her changes, no matter _what_ Myrnin had tried to argue, and so there was no need to worry.

"I'm going for lunch, are you coming?" she addressed Myrnin as she stood up and walked across to the portal. Her bodyguard followed close behind, yet didn't open the portal door, as he waited to see whether Myrnin would accept her invitation or not.

"No, I'd rather remain here and wait to know the results of your…_interesting_ decision first hand, and then relay them to _you_." There was something about his tone that made Claire want to stay and argue with him, until she realised that she didn't really care; she didn't want things to change between them, for her to be given more 'respect' from him, and if that meant he was allowed to voice his opinion about her actions, then so be it. She had been able to deal with his opinion before – barely – and that was when he was disease stricken, so she was sure that she'd be able to handle him when he was actually healthy…or, at least she hoped. She knew he could still be a stubborn idiot, but she hoped with all her heart that he would agree with her on this, that he wouldn't fight her on her first decision; she knew he wouldn't, given how hard he had worked to get her _into_ the position. Yet she couldn't help but feel as though he felt he knew more than her, just because of his greater life experience.

_And if he feels like that, he should have been the Founder then, shouldn't he,_ she thought bitterly, deciding to ignore his comment and sweep out of the office through the portal without another word.

When she arrived back in the Glass House, it was empty. She could work her own hours, she knew that, but her friends couldn't. It was almost eerie, being in the house so often when it was empty, but she decided that she could deal with it. After all, it was better than remaining housed in the office where she worked _all_ day, right? And here, she could eat whatever she wanted for lunch, with no commentary on what she was eating from Myrnin, or have limits set on her from what they had in the fridges in the City Hall. Some sixth sense told Claire that she didn't _want_ to know what they had in the fridges at the City Hall, because it wouldn't be catering for her kind, would it?

Gérard didn't say a word as they walked back into the residence they had only departed three or so hours ago; he wasn't going to influence what the ruler wanted to do, yet Claire couldn't help but feel that she wanted him to eat or drink _something_. Whilst he had become better at accepting food and drink, she could tell that he didn't really want it, that he was one of the vampires who didn't particularly want to eat and drink food for the fun of it, but she still found herself relishing the challenge to get him to eat more than just when he absolutely _had_ to. Even as she walked into the kitchen to make herself something to eat, he didn't follow; he just waited in the living room, in the corner as usual, because there was no chance that she could be hurt by any other person in the kitchen.

Even _he_ thought that she had enough common sense to be let loose in a kitchen – and that was something for Claire.

"Gérard, are you _sure_ you don't want anything to eat?"

"I'm certain, miss," he was firm yet polite in his response, his centuries of service having taught him to have the perfect etiquette in regards to waiting on his mistress of the current moment.

Claire wasn't going to press him; she knew that he had made his decision, and there was very little chance that she would be able to change anything. He was a stubborn man, she knew, and the chances of her managing to change his mind were very slim indeed. So, instead, she sat down on the sofa with her sandwich and began to flick through one of the books on the side, wondering how long it would take for reports to be coming in from the town, in regards to her law changes.

It took less time than Claire thought possible.

_~x~_

Myrnin had had the right idea; _he_ knew what the vampires' perspective on the law changes would be, and the idea that they needed to be placated became necessary as well. Within minutes of the changes, the phone didn't stop ringing, people wanting to talk to Claire to tell her what was happening with the vampires and humans. Because she had left him in charge, they spoke to Myrnin, and he wasn't particularly impressed, realising that he could have perhaps even underestimated what his fellows would have thought. They were planning to revolt, saying that they were the superiors and that they should be treated as such, even with their ruler being a human. Yet the reports coming in from the humans were much more promising; gone was the previous disdain and barely contained resentment for being controlled by laws that meant they were merely the prey of vampires, and in its place was a happiness that Myrnin had never seen in Morganville. They seemed closer to being proud of where they came from, more content to live alongside vampires, and even willing to accept their predators, with the changes that had been put into place.

He was worried; he knew what the vampires thought, and what they were announcing was actually just a part of what they thought. Those which heartily opposed the law changes would be, he knew, underground right now, planning what they wanted to do to get back to the way that things were before. Perhaps they even thought that they would be better rulers than Claire; if they did, he knew that they'd be plotting her assassination, and that was far too simple, given that she remained to be human. He wouldn't change her, certainly not without her permission, but he knew that even him being the vampire liaison wouldn't help. Many didn't trust him because of his disease and past…_discrepancies_ in their relationship, and Sam had never been accepted by them with his willingness to live alongside humans and for the infatuation with Amelie; basically, if they didn't reach some sort of conclusion, Myrnin was fearful that they wouldn't actually _have_ Claire in power much longer.

This was why she needed to listen to him! It was all well and good having the dreams of where she wanted the town to end up, but they wouldn't help her if she was _dead_, would they? Counterbalancing was something Amelie had understood, something Myrnin understood a little of, and he knew that Claire needed to understand it when two completely opposing forces lived alongside one another in Morganville. There was no way that they could sustain these changes, not so soon, not so many at one given time, with no titbits whatsoever.

"Damn you, Amelie, for dying!" he muttered under his breath, knowing that none of this would have happened if she had not died; of course it wouldn't, because Claire would never have replaced her as Founder! Sam would most likely have died rather than Amelie and Oliver, which would have meant that Amelie would have been depressed, Oliver would have been vying for the control of the town, and everyone would have been _thoroughly_ depressed, rather than the partial they were at that time.

It was a hard decision for Myrnin, to decide whether he'd rather Claire be in power, or the possible scenario if Amelie had kept control of Morganville. Even though he didn't want to admit it…part of him was slightly too happy that Amelie had died, merely because she had taken Oliver with her.

Within another half an hour, however, there were enough reports of disdain and not too thinly veiled threats from vampires to have Myrnin bring Claire back from her lunch break. He had some contingency plans in mind for placating the vampires, and he knew Sam had some ideas if they were needed, because he was sure that Claire didn't _really_ have ideas as to what she could do for the vampires.

"What's going on?" Claire asked, anger mixed in with confusion at the way that Myrnin had dragged her through the portal without any explanation. "Do you make a habit of picking people up _mid-lunch_ and then dragging them through a portal without telling the person why?"

He stared at her blankly, waiting until Gérard had entered the room before telling her. "Responses to your changes this morning have been coming in for the past hour or so," he told her without any hint of a smile, something that was strange in itself because Myrnin always had cheer – even when he was worried about something, there was a spark in his eyes.

"And what do they say?" Claire sat down in her chair, ignoring the phone that continued to beep for attention.

"As I said they would be: you have vampires who are planning on revolting, because they don't agree with what your rule changes consist of." His tone was sharper than she had expected, and she was focused on that for a second or two, before she realised what he had said.

"Wait…what!" she sat up straighter, shock registered on her face. "I…what do you mean? I didn't think that there would be a bad reaction to it, not at all!"

"There hasn't been, if you just look at the humans in town," Myrnin responded, reaching over and handing Claire a hastily written list of everyone who had contacted them looking for _her_ thus far. "Most of them seem pretty happy about it; there have been reports of someone throwing a party tonight because of the restrictions at night being lifted. It's just the _other_ residents in town, ones who are—" she cut him off before he could finish.

"_Better_ than the humans?" she finished, a sneer in her voice – something that Myrnin had never expected. "You think that, just because they're stronger, vampires – _you_ – are better."

"No, I was actually going to say that vampires have had the run of the town for its entire existence, so there's the opinion that vampires ought to have been included in the bills; instead, the only race mentioned on there was humans," he replied, slightly snappier than he would have otherwise been.

"So…ok, whatever…what the _fuck_ do I do?" she groaned, putting her head into her hands. "I don't have a _clue_, Myrnin; I don't understand what I can do! I didn't expect this, not at all! Now you're going to tell me that they're planning on _revolting_, or something stupid like that."

He smiled for the first time since he had dragged her back into the office, yet there was no pleasantness about it; it was recognising that she had gotten it right on the first guess. "That's exactly what they're planning, Claire. If you don't do something soon, there's a chance that everything could go up in smoke."

She couldn't believe this; there was no chance that the vampires could be so _stupid_ to have forgotten that, only a few weeks ago, they were fighting in a different civil war, one with an actual purpose. All she had done was make things a little more equal between the two races, something that was long overdue, and that was nothing compared to being oppressed by a dictator who was then removed from power, was it? She hadn't considered that there would be any response like this, not at all, and flabbergasted wouldn't even cover half of what she was feeling.

"What…what can I do, Myrnin?" she trembled slightly, lifting her head out of her arms to look him in the face. "I don't know anything that I could do to make this all go away."

"All you can do is try and give them something – try allowing them to kill if it is a self-defence issue," he urged, and she got the feeling that he wasn't pushing this for _his_ gain; he was pushing it for a balance of power to be regained. "It isn't much, and it certainly isn't what you desired to have to do, but it may placate them enough…"

"…But it will make any humans think that I'll go back on my words _all the time_!" she cried out. "I…I don't know. It's the opposite of everything I want to do. But if it means that I don't get killed for a job that I didn't even want, then sure, let's do it." She made the decision to do it within about three seconds of disagreeing with herself, and Myrnin raised an eyebrow, wondering if _all_ women were like this.

"Are you certain that you wish to do it, Claire? If you don't want to, you don't have to," he reminded her gently, his voice much softer than it was even a minute ago. "After all, _you_ are the Founder now, not myself or anyone else. Make the decisions you want to."

She smiled. It wasn't a smile which would make anyone think that she was either confident or happy about the situation she was in. It was one with a hint of sadness, and had an edge of being trapped in something she would much rather not be trapped in, something like what she had to do – even though she didn't want to. "You know I have to do it, Myrnin, even if I don't want to. So write it up, whatever you think, and send it in. Give it just enough to make sure that the vampires are placated."

Turning to face the blacked out window, she sighed ever so slightly, sounding much older than her seventeen years in the process. "Just make sure that _my_ race don't hate me for it."

_~x~_

That night, by seven pm, things were in chaos.

She hadn't expected what had happened, not whatsoever. Gone was the problems from the vampires – they weren't happy, yet they were content with being able to kill humans so long as it could be proved as being self defence – and yet she had almost as great a problem as before, yet this time it was from _her_ race. They had instantly, as soon as the second announcement had gone out, accused her of being a liar, a cheat, a fraud, and she got the feeling that she wouldn't be trusted by them again; all celebrations were cancelled as they realised that their leader wouldn't be someone who supported them and them only. They didn't understand the process of delicately balancing both sides of the town; as she would have done only weeks before, they only focused on _their_ side, akin to how the vampires viewed the situation. There was only going to be more chaos, she thought bitterly, having not moved from the spot by the window for almost an hour.

It should have been dark. The early winter nights were rolling in fast, and Claire knew that the sky ought to have been pitch black by now, save for a few stars.

It wasn't.

Glowing orange spots flickered throughout the town, a new one appearing every so often before another, older one was doused by her fire crews. They would be running out of water, she knew, and rebellion like this couldn't be sustained. She had to think of something to do, _anything_ that could bring order back to the town, before it was all destroyed. If she couldn't think of something to do _soon_, there was no point in doing anything, because Morganville would have been in ruins. There would have been no hope whatsoever.

Biting her fingernails to the point that there would be nothing left to bite on, Claire continued to watch out the window, ignoring the continual updates from Sam and Myrnin behind her. Everyone wanted to know what she would do next, what her response to these actions would be, and they all wanted different things. All they wanted to know was whether or not her actions would lead to peace and calm, or merely cause more violence. And she didn't have a clue. She didn't know how to run the town, or what to do; she was back to being the seventeen year old girl she was, yet hadn't felt in such a long time, and she didn't know how to run a town, how to placate a mob, how to balance peace in a delicate situation that could be overturned in one move. Everything rested on this move.

And she didn't want to make it.

Suddenly, she turned around and faced Myrnin and Sam, her face streaked with the silent tears that had been falling down her cheeks for almost the same length of time she had been looking out the window.

"I don't know what to do," she confessed, wiping away the glistening drops of fluid. "Don't interrupt. I don't know what to do, and I don't think I _ever_ will. Can you sort it? Please? I can't…I can't do this." she begged and pleaded the pair of them to save her from this, to allow her to get out of this without being hurt, because she knew that there was no way anything she thought up would be suitable to calm everyone down.

After a brief glance in the other's direction, Sam and Myrnin nodded. "This once, we'll help you more than you need," Sam said softly, stepping forwards to hug Claire. "We can't do it again, Claire. It's your town. But we…we get that it's hard this time, so we'll sort everything."

But as he said that, Claire realised something: right now, she didn't _want_ it to be her town.

She wanted Amelie back, more than before.

Shame that that couldn't happen, right?

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	14. Dilemma

_Chapter 14:_

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><p>By morning, it was all over.<p>

Well, that's what Claire had gleaned from the odd moment she listened to Myrnin's constant giving of orders, anyway. Throughout the entire night, all she had done was sit in her chair and wait, trying desperately to block out every word that was said by Myrnin, Sam and any of the others who had entered the room to give progress reports. She refused to answer the phone, refused to talk to Sam when he tried to explain what was going on, and when Myrnin had suggested that she leave to go to bed, she shot him a look so cold that he backed away without another word, no hesitation.

As the dawn approached, she stood up and moved to look out of the window, waiting for the dusky pink colour to tinge the dark sky to indicate that the night was over, that the day was to begin and that the dangerous creatures were going to their holes to hide. But, in Morganville now, that wasn't the case; because of _her_ actions, the monster within the humans had been unleashed – though the monster was not always necessarily concealed deep within them – and she sincerely doubted that it would have been eradicated completely in only one night.

However, she had underestimated Myrnin and his powers of persuasion – or, rather, the orders he had given out. "Things are back to…normal, Claire," he told her gently as he approached her by the window, hesitating before using the word 'normal' because what exactly _was_ normal in Morganville? "Nobody wants to kill you, or anyone else, at least not more than they did the day before. Everything is quite fine again."

Claire turned around to look at him, wiping tears from her eyes as she did so. "What did you have to do?" she whispered, knowing that it wouldn't have just taken 'pretend that this never happened', especially with people like Captain Obvious in this town. "I want the _truth_, Myrnin, not whatever concoction you think I'm most likely to accept."

He hesitated for a second, turning around to lock eyes with another vampire – Claire thought it was Sam, from the glint in the corner of her eye – before looking back at her. "I had to threaten imminent death if the entire day was ever mentioned again, and if anyone dared to act on it, they would find themselves with a fate worse than death," he finally muttered, looking down at their feet as he spoke. "Nothing else would have worked, Claire, before you begin to give me whatever reproachful speech you probably desire to share," he continued, his voice betraying the slightest edge of acidity.

"I was never going to say that!" she protested, though she knew that she would have done, if the situation had been different. Even then, she was thinking about how that was what she didn't _want_, and that she would have to make it up to the people threatened somehow…but she couldn't. She had asked Myrnin and Sam to deal with everything for her, because she was far too scared to do it herself, and she had no idea what to do, and things had worked, it seemed. She owed everything to Myrnin…there was certainly no way that she could insult his methods.

Though the look he gave her suggested otherwise, Myrnin graciously nodded his head, as though he agreed with what Claire had said. "Very well. If there is anything else…?" he trailed off, and once again, Claire had the feeling that she was in a position she didn't want. Rather than him leaving whenever he wanted to, he now felt he had to ask her to leave, and though she had considered this many, _many_ times already, it still saddened her.

"So it's as though yesterday never happened?" she confirmed, and he nodded once again in confirmation of this fact. "I…thank you, Myrnin. I don't know what I would have done. Thank you…and you, Sam." She turned her head to look at Sam as she said the final words, and the ginger haired vampire on the other side of the room looked at her and smiled.

"No problem, kiddo," Sam replied, Myrnin merely standing still without speaking. "I didn't do _that_ much—"

"Nothing at all, without my prodding," Myrnin muttered under his breath, though both Claire and Sam could hear him.

"—but I think that we got everything sorted," Sam continued his sentence as though Myrnin hadn't spoken, merely shooting him an exasperated glance. "If you don't mind, I'm going to go home and sleep, because I'm absolutely knackered, and you look the same way, Claire. Goodbye." With that, he turned and walked out of the office, and Claire realised that _that_ was what she wanted; she wanted people to be able to come and go as they pleased, so long as she was close to them, but she knew that Myrnin would never feel that he could do as Sam did.

Evidently, Myrnin's impertinence had its limits, probably something to do with the way that he had been brought up, and leaving without his superior's permission was one of the things he didn't do.

"Go on, Myrnin, run along and play with the new shipment of chemicals I got the other day," Claire sighed, wishing that she could go and join him in mixing sulphates and other chemicals that would probably have made her teachers go crazy, if they had seen her mixing such things in the same pot. "But save me some, for when I come by in a couple of days, yeah?" she raised her weary voice, as Myrnin had already begun to move towards the portal.

Turning around with his hand on the doorknob, Myrnin raised an imaginary hat and swooped it to the ground, bowing as he did so. "As you wish, dear Claire," he replied, walking through the portal without another word.

It seemed far too simple still, to Claire, that everything had been sorted so quickly, and without any _real_ mayhem – she would have heard, in those few snippets she had bothered to listen to throughout the night – if there had been any deaths, or anyone arrested for not complying with the highest commands, wouldn't she? Yes, she would have done…but now, it was time to sleep, because everything was sorted in Morganville, even though she had done nothing to prevent a full blown catastrophe.

All she had done was fuel it.

_~x~_

Her sleep was plagued with nightmares, visions of what could have been, if she hadn't have managed to get someone else to divert the troubles caused by her plans: children lay dying in the street, entire streets were in smithereens, and she was captured by a mob of very, _very _angry humans, all of whom seemed hell bent on making her suffer as much as they had done for their entire lives. And she couldn't do anything to stop it; no matter how much she thrashed and screamed in the world which seemed almost _too_ realistic to be just a dream, she couldn't escape back into the world of the living, the world where she had to control the town and these residents who wanted to kill her, at least in the dream.

Something told Claire, as she began to wake up from the terrifying nightmare, that if these same humans got hold of her in real life, she'd probably be facing the same fate as she was in her dream world.

Gasping and spluttering as she awoke, Claire's eyes snapped open to reveal her dimming room in the Glass House; the light outside was evidently fading as night approached, and created shadows in the room which scared her. She wanted light – and lots of it.

Reaching out to press the button to turn on the light, the fear from her nightmare spilled over into real life, and Claire began to worry that there was someone in the room – human or vampire, it didn't really make a difference because they were all against her. Paralysing nerves began to run through her, making her _certain_ that there was someone in the back corner – _nothing_ could be that black and not be hiding someone within it, could it?

Part of her wanted to get up and look at it, but the rest of her was frozen to the spot in which she lay, her eyes searching desperately to try and see who was there; she was convinced that there was someone, and it took another ten seconds for her to realise that she could just turn the light on and see who was there. So she snapped the light switch, hard, and bright artificial light flooded the room, revealing everything in the room which had previously been confined to shadows and the devil: nothing. She had imagined that there was someone there, had completely made up the fact that there was some enemy watching her sleep, and that he could have killed her if she hadn't woken up then.

_What's happening to me?_ Claire thought, tears beginning to spill over onto her cheeks as she buried her head in her hands. _I imagined that there was someone here to kill me, and I wouldn't take no for an answer, even from my logical side_. Something told her that it was the fear from the dream that had caused this, mixed with the actions of the humans in their rioting, and she had to admit that that was a likely factor; before yesterday, she had been more than comfortable living in a location of which humans and vampires knew about, and she hadn't considered that there could be a potential safety risk. Now, as she thought about it, she realised how easy it would be for her death to be brought about: humans could throw petrol bombs – _anything_, really – through the windows in her room, and vampires could get in because the owner of the house was a vampire.

Suddenly petrified that she could be attacked at any point, Claire jumped up out of bed and ran across the room, yanking the bedroom door open as she reached it, revealing the safety of the hallway beyond. Here, she felt safe in the knowledge that she was only a few metres away from her friends and her bodyguard, illogical thoughts causing her to forget that the door didn't cast an impenetrable barrier between her and the rest of the house.

Claire was scared. Just, this time, she had no need to be.

_~x~_

The same state of being continued for Claire throughout the next week, though it seemed to be getting progressively worse; she couldn't go anywhere without worrying that someone was going to attack her, feared that whatever she did at work – be it signing off for more machines for the hospital, or announcing tax breaks for all businesses down the main street for this coming year – it would end in revolution. Though, this time, she thought that it would be permanent, and that her body would be dismembered, like the previous Founder, though this time by the Founder's own people. She couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and the thought of going by the lab when she finished work was alien to her, because she felt that it would be too obvious, and that people could kill her more easily.

Gérard noticed that there was something wrong with her, but she managed to laugh it off, pretending that she hadn't slept enough, or that she'd watched a scary tv show that had her worrying about these sorts of things, and even _Myrnin_ became less self-obsessed in order to make sure that she was ok. Or maybe it was just to make sure he didn't have to start advertising for a new ruler – that was just as likely.

No, Claire was sure that things weren't the same – and it wasn't going to get any better. She couldn't control both humans _and_ vampires, at least not the way she was. So that left one choice.

She was going to quit.

* * *

><p>"Amelie, for heaven's sake, if you cannot see that she is about to give up on the town, I would certainly make sure that there is no secondary heaven to be moving into, because I fear for you." As usual, Oliver is as obnoxious as ever, and I barely restrain myself from dismembering him, for fear of losing my only companion in this strange place.<p>

"If I am in purgatory, it is most _certainly_ because I am with you, Oliver, need I remind you of that?" I sigh, placing my head in my hands. She cannot give up; I can see it in her face that she is close to the end of her time as ruler, if she does not change.

"No, you do it enough." His reply is short and curt, though he does stand up to move to stand alongside me, peering down at the town which was once our home. "She managed fairly well at first, I will give her that. Now the fool has sorted things out for her, she can try again, but remember that she has _two_ species to deal with, rather than just humans." Oliver is more than slightly supportive of Claire, and that surprises me; in our entire time here, in this approximation of a heaven, he has said nothing but negative things about such a young, inexperienced girl running the town.

"She will be fine," I say confidently, lifting my gaze from my hands to look at the plan of my town. "I can guarantee it. After all…I once had the same idealisms as she does…I still do, in all honesty." I don't add on what could happen if she _isn't_ fine.

Our entire town will fall to pieces, and we will be abandoned forever.

Oliver doesn't beg to question this line of thought, either.

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	15. Discussion

School's manic at this point. Sorry for the long(ish) delay.

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><p><em>Chapter 15:<em>

Claire paced up and down her office – since she had been forced to think of it as hers, rather than Amelie's – and shook her head, trying to get some sense into it. In the deepest depths of her mind, she knew that it wasn't rational for her to think that there was always something out after her, that neither humans nor vampires wanted her head on a stick at that particular moment in time, but she couldn't help it. Nothing made sense to her, at least not in a logical manner, and everything she thought of ended up in a _what if?_ scenario. What if the vampires didn't like the humans being able to shop on Sundays? What if the humans didn't like the vampires getting thirty dollars off a new car, if their current trade in was fifteen years or older? What if they all wanted to get rid of her so badly, that natural enemies would work together to kill her?

What if they _all_ wanted her dead?

"Are you quite alright, miss?" Gérard's voice came at her from the corner, and she started slightly; in the heat of the 'what if' panic, Claire had forgotten that she was at work, and that there were others present. She couldn't let him see how scared she was; she would feel as though she was letting Myrnin – and Amelie, in a sense – down, because she was still fearful when the problem had been dealt with long ago.

So it was with a smile that she turned around to face her bodyguard, wondering just how fake it looked, because she was certain that there was no way it could appear genuine. "I'm fine, thanks," she replied, twisting her hands together as she spoke. "I'm just…tired. And bored; I don't know what to do now, and that's quite frustrating at the same time and…and I'm hungry."

Gérard raised an eyebrow, yet didn't say anything, and Claire realised that in the space of about ten seconds, she had told him that she was tired, bored, frustrated and hungry. Oversharing like that…well, she was certain that it would just make her look even more fraudulent and guilty, and make it obvious that she was hiding her true feelings.

She didn't quite know how to change things, so that they seemed more natural, so Claire just continued to stand there, staring in her bodyguard's direction, and feeling that, for someone who had so many people around her, she had never quite felt so alone.

Not for the first time, Claire realised something about Amelie: she had been _lonely._

And how did she know? Because _she_ was.

_~x~_

Getting into bed that night, Claire felt relatively proud; she had gotten through the day with minimal worry from her friends about whether she was feeling ok, and whether she needed to eat more, and that was better than the days before. But she was still certain that her actions of the other day left her in no position to be the head of the town, and that she ought to quit; there was more dignity in quitting, than being forced out of the job either by fellow human politicians, or by force if there was a revolt that caused the town to be captured. Whilst Myrnin and Sam had said there was no chance of that, how could that be certain? It had happened time and time again in the past, with people saying that it was definite for one side to win – Harold Godwinson versus William the Conqueror for one, and then the English Civil War which Claire was certain Oliver was part of – and that side always lost. Whether she was like Harold or King Charles I, she didn't particularly care, but there was a growing sense of insecurity within her mind, and nothing anyone else said could alleviate it. She was almost so certain of defeat that if she _wasn't_, she would have somehow managed to cause it anyway…no, it was better for her to get out as soon as she could and hopefully manage to spare her life.

Claire shuffled down into her bed, wrapping the covers around her shoulders as she shut her eyes, begging for the morning to come without nightmares, so she could end this chapter of her life without it being the _last_ one.

If only.

The moment she fell into a state of slumber, she opened her eyes to find herself in a place that was familiar to her; instantly, she recognised it as the park where she had met Amelie before, and heaved a sigh of mixed emotions. Whilst she realised that it would be an ideal opportunity to get some last words of advice for life from Amelie – after all, one doesn't live for as long as she did without picking up some skills along the way – she also didn't want to have to confess that she was planning on quitting, and leaving Amelie's town without a ruler. _No ruler is better than an incompetent one_, Claire thought, but she knew within herself that this was a lie; she wasn't entirely incompetent, but she had decided to give up rather than fight on.

Taking a step forwards, Claire squinted into the bright, seemingly morning sun, trying to see where Amelie was; there was absolutely no way that she would be transported here to spend her sleep time, she was sure of it. And right enough, emerging from the trees on the other side of the park, was Amelie.

She looked the same as she did the last time Claire saw her: slightly harrowed, yet relaxed simultaneously, and seeming as though there was a great pressure on her mind. Immediately, Claire knew why Amelie had this expression on her face, and not even the shock at seeing her – they may have met only the other week, yet it was still _weird_ to see a dead woman walking around – could alleviate the guilt that began to build up inside. Soon, she would have to explain why she was abandoning the down, and in all honesty, Claire didn't think she could do it.

"Hello once again, Claire," Amelie said as she approached Claire, a slight smile slipping onto her lips as they met. "It has not been long, has it? And I was so sure that when we met before, it would be the first and last time…alas, this is not the case." She didn't bother wasting time asking Claire how she was, and Claire was thankful for that; something told her that she wouldn't be with Amelie if she was ok.

"I can't do it," Claire told her straight away, getting it out as they walked towards the bench in the centre of the park rather than waiting to sit down to tell her. "I'm sorry, Amelie, I tried. I did everything I could to try and make them like me, to develop ideas that would help everyone…and nothing worked. I almost managed to destroy the town in a few days, and if I didn't have Myrnin and Sam, I would never have managed to sort things out." by the end, tears were forming in her eyes and she wiped them away, trying to stop herself crying. Amelie never cried, not when she was alive, at least. Even if she wasn't as strong as Amelie, Claire had to at least _attempt _to do something right.

She had expected Amelie to go off on a rant about how she _was_ right for the town, and that she only needed a little longer to gather the courage to make decisions – the right ones, anyway – and not back down; instead, she was pleasantly surprised.

"I know," was all Amelie said as she sat down on the swinging bench, her eyes focused on Claire and yet distant simultaneously. "I know, because I was _you_ once, Claire. I was a naïve woman who believed that humans and vampires could co-exist with only minor problems, and I did not have the excuse of youth to allow such a silly philosophy to cross my mind. It was never my intention to have humans feel so…victimised; due to our nature, I could never hope for complete equality – I did desire to keep my life, after all – but I never considered that Morganville would turn out as it did. By the end, Claire, before my Father arrived, it was a situation wrought with tension and bitterness; Oliver and I had no common enemy to unite us, and every action either of us took was one step closer to complete discord.

"Very soon, there would have been a civil war, and most of us would have perished, Claire, even before the disease took hold of us. That had happened during my rule, and even with almost one hundred and twenty years experience in controlling Morganville, I could have lost everything; and yet your situation is vastly different, yet it shares some parallels, I suppose." As before, Amelie digressed slightly in her answer, leaving Claire even more confused, given that the apparently 'brilliant' ruler was, in fact, not so brilliant.

"So…you're saying that, no matter what I do, I'm going to fail?" Claire tried to infer from Amelie's speech, yet she wasn't getting any positive message. In fact, she almost seemed to be getting Amelie's urging her to quit before it destroyed her.

Amelie snorted, and it was a noise that Claire had rarely heard from her before, one as unladylike as possible. "Hardly, child; I would hardly be giving up my valuable – though plentiful – time to explain to you that you are ultimately going to fail. I merely wished to explain to you that there is nothing for you to live up to; as before you, there are no expectations. I was expected to fail, even by my closest friend, because such a town had never existed before – and yet Morganville flourished. You have the chance to make your own mark on this town, Claire…you should not throw it away just yet."

"But it already almost got destroyed," Claire wailed, unable to stop the hysterical edge to her voice, "and it was all my fault. It was barely fixed, and I don't think it would be able to be fixed if it happened again!"

The smile on Amelie's face didn't seem to fit the scenario, and it was so surreal to see Amelie smiling anyway, let alone at such an ill-fitting time, that Claire stopped with the panic and hysterics and looked at the woman she had came to visit. "Claire, I was very much like you in the beginning," Amelie told her, her voice low and quiet. "There were differences between us, of course, but…but I wanted the same things you want, as I look in retrospect. We both wanted equality, and we wanted there to be peace – alas, there is none. I realised very quickly that my ideals were only ideals, and that reaching them may take centuries, so I lowered my gaze and made things work as well as they could. Yet to do that…I changed. I lost my belief in things that I did, lost almost every thought I had that we could be equal, and turned into someone I never was before. Morganville made me this ruler, rather than myself making Morganville." Something in her tone had Claire believing everything she said, as though there was no doubt that Amelie and Claire were similar prior to Morganville's conception.

"The only way you were able to get through the work was by turning icy and cold and really distant?" Claire confirmed, and Amelie nodded slowly. "That's…that's ridiculous!"

"It is also what you must do, to gain control," Amelie said to her straight, not holding any information back. "This is not a guidance talk, like before, Claire; this is one for you to realise that this job is _yours_ now, and that you must do everything you can to ensure that you are successful. If not, you die. It is as simple as that, for do you believe Captain Obvious is going to hold back the torture for you, merely because you are a seventeen year old girl? No, he is not, so it would suit you well to remember this when you are deciding how jolly and open you appear to be in town."

The advice made sense to Claire, and it explained many of the things about Amelie she had seen in her short time here and had heard from before, yet she didn't understand why she was only getting this _now_. "Why did you not tell me this before?" Claire demanded, already aware that she wasn't actually going to be resigning now; something in Amelie's voice suggested deep-rooted passion, and it was all she needed to hear to realise that she was a suitable replacement.

The smile took a slight melancholy edge to it now, and Claire's heart sank. "You had to understand for yourself why I was the way I was," Amelie said, her eyes filling with sadness as they focused on Claire. "If I merely told you to be like this, you wouldn't understand it and would rebel, trying your best to be as helpful to humans as possible…and it would have ended up in irreparable disaster. This way, you have appreciated how one can act, and yet how one must become something that one isn't naturally, in order to survive."

One thought hit Claire suddenly, one about Sam and Amelie. "What about Sam?" she asked rashly, realising that it wasn't probably the best idea to discuss these two with each other, given that they had been ripped apart at the seams. "If you became distant and isolated from everything, why did you fall in love with Sam?"

"Because Sam was my guilty pleasure, the one who allowed me to remember the hopes and dreams I once had – still have – and made me feel alive," she replied instantly. "He thought he was persuading me to do things for his kind, though I had always wanted to do them and yet never had the courage to. We had such passion for this, and yet he…he never understood how much I wanted to do everything he asked me to do. Sam was the one person I could be myself with – however infrequently, and however dangerous it was to do so.

"In the end, when he became one of us, someone like me, I couldn't have that feeling of nostalgia anymore; I had to distance myself from him, even though it hurt me as much as hiding my dreams did. He couldn't know that I loved him so unconditionally, that I would do anything for him, because otherwise, he would want things that I couldn't give him and he could have been in danger. But he was the one person who understood what I wanted from my town, and how I wanted it to happen. It is just a shame that it has never, and will never, happen." By the end, her voice was wistful, and Claire shuddered at the story; it was filled with heartbreak, yet also intense adoration and the feeling that love was something that was pure and permanent, when found – just as they had found it.

Most certainly_ not_ like her and Shane, the latter of whom, had ran off and she hadn't seen since he told her he had reported her to the Fang Report.

Claire sighed, burying her head in her hands as she did so, unable to help herself. "I'm not going to quit, am I?" she found herself saying, though she didn't know where the absolution that she would remain as Founder came from. "You always knew that, and you just wanted me to realise that I need to do it differently…like you did."

Amelie nodded slowly, before realising that Claire wouldn't know, given that her head was still buried deep within her arms. "Yes, little Claire, that is what I have known ever since you took on the responsibility," she said slowly, looking up to look at the sun overhead. "I have been aware that you are right for this town for many weeks now, Claire, before you even took the position from Richard…you just need to adjust your attitude slightly, at least until you are settled."

Like the time before, Claire got the feeling that things were coming to an end about a minute before they did: her head snapped up instantly, and turned to look at Amelie, whose own gaze moved from the sun to rest on Claire's face. "I still don't know why I'm doing this, you know," she told Amelie, her tone ringing with sincerity. "And you're not here to help me, Myrnin is just…_Myrnin_, and nobody else knows what to do. I'm just going to go and make things up on the spot and—"

Amelie cut her off with a sigh, placing one hand lightly onto Claire's shoulder in a movement almost to console her. "It was a rash decision to build Morganville, as I told you before, Claire; everything I did was an experiment. You will be _fine_. Now go: it's time for you to return to the world of the living – though this time, do not take the fear and worry with you. Leave it here, with me, and then things will become easier for you." Her tone was forceful, and Claire couldn't help but reach out and give Amelie a hug, something she thought surprised the old vampire.

"Bye, Amelie," she whispered as she felt herself disappearing, one second in the park and the next back in her room in the Glass House.

As her eyes opened to look at the ceiling, the darkness suggesting the early hours of the morning, Claire realised that she wasn't scared anymore; no, now she had to isolate emotions from work and ensure that she only did what was in the town's interests, not what she wanted to do.

In short, she would have to become the human version of Amelie.

_Great_.

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><p>Please don't favourite or alert without reviewing.<p> 


	16. Changes

_Chapter 16:_

To anyone who cares, it's half term now, so I can write a LOT of stuff next week. So expect more stuff than normal, honestly.

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><p>"You look like shit." Eve was direct as Claire walked into the kitchen the morning after her 'night with Amelie', not having slept much after her return to Morganville.<p>

"Gee, thanks, I'm wondering what you're comparing me to; is it yourself, or have you managed to discover some other test subject in a morning?" Claire shot back, her tone acerbic, wincing as she finished. Whilst it hadn't been her intention to be rude, somehow she found herself being, and yet if she started as she meant to go on, it was time to stop apologising. "I have to go to work now. Maybe I'll see you later." She mumbled this before turning around to exit the kitchen before Eve could even say one word in protest.

As she walked towards the wall where the portal was always summoned to, Claire could sense Gérard following her without even seeing him; she knew that she would never be leaving the house without him, so it was obvious he would be behind her. Part of her even guessed what he was thinking: _why has Claire spoken to her friend like that?_ Or, more likely, the _Founder_ rather than Claire, or possibly 'miss', because she knew that he didn't want to call her Claire.

Within seconds, Claire was in her office and seated behind the desk, ready to begin the day's work. Unlike the previous weeks, when she had been scared to make any decisions whatsoever, Claire felt almost as though she had the courage to make choices about the welfare of the town and not back down on them; she had the authority to make certain decisions, she knew that, and thanks to Amelie, she was going to act on it.

It was scary that she was only getting into the swing of things because the previous job holder decided to visit her in her dreams, and tell her that she needed to be like her, because if things were lacking the supernatural edge that they had in Morganville, that would never have happened.

Then again, Claire thought on balance, if Morganville had no vampires, _Morganville_ wouldn't exist.

"Hello, Claire!" Myrnin was his usual, jovial self when he walked into her office through a portal, a smile playing on his lips that didn't seem particularly appropriate. "Given that you're hard at work – though with such boring things – would you like to come and assist me in the laboratory with a new experiment?"

Claire was torn; one very large part of her wanted to just shun this work and go blow off steam, to return to her roots of science and lacking the knowledge to understand why Myrnin's experiments worked, yet the rest of her knew that she had made her decision to be like Amelie. _She_ wouldn't be running off to do what she wanted – as far as Claire knew, she lived and breathed Morganville; Claire was already behind because she had to eat and sleep – she couldn't exactly then go spend 'work time' blowing things up.

"Maybe later, Myrnin," she said in response, but she knew that it was a lie. She was probably never going to return to the laboratory for a social visit, at least not until she retired from the position at the grand age of sixty five years old if she had to stay in position for the rest of her life, but she didn't need to tell Myrnin that. His face had already fallen just because she wasn't going to the lab _then_; she wondered what he would do if he found out she would never be mixing compounds with him again?

"Do you require any assistance with your work, then, if you don't want to return with me?" Myrnin asked, bouncing back from his disappointment remarkably quickly. The look Claire shot him caused him to roll his eyes and tack on the end, "I am becoming much more politically aware – even though that was never my intention in life – and believe that I possess the skills required to make good decisions in this town."

In fairness, Claire thought, there was no doubting that; he sorted her mess out in about three hours, possibly a little more, when she'd had absolutely no clue what to do. But…Amelie accepted no help; she didn't need it, but Claire was certain that she hadn't done so, even when she first created Morganville. Therefore, Claire would learn as she went, and she wouldn't accept help from anyone, not Myrnin, not Sam, and certainly not her friends. She had to be independent and look after the town on her own initiative, not anyone else's.

"I'm fine, thanks, Myrnin," she found herself saying, setting the pen down on the desk and turning her head from Myrnin; she didn't want to look at him as she spoke, incase her real reason for denying his assistance was clear: she wanted to be like Amelie. "I'll do this, and then I'll work out something about the library opening times, because that seems pretty pressing…I'll see you later." As she finished, Claire realised that she sounded as though she was dismissing Myrnin…which she sort of was. Whilst she didn't want to sound demanding, or like she was abusing her power, she sort of _wanted_ him to leave, because then he couldn't stay and guilt her into going back to the lab with him; after all, she desperately wanted to go, so just a few well phrased sentences would have her running for the portal.

Myrnin nodded slowly – she could see the movement of his head from the corner of her eye, no matter how much she didn't want to look at him – and muttered, "well, if that is what you _desire_, I shall leave you, Claire," and then walked towards the portal, passing through it without another word.

The slamming of the door was the only way that Claire could tangibly tell that Myrnin was annoyed – or hurt. With him, it was probably both, though he knew better than to show those emotions to her, given her position now. And with this new turn of events and her new mantra in the town, she couldn't help but be thankful for this.

_~x~_

When the time came that evening for Claire to leave for home, she found that she didn't want to; having turned off her mobile phone to avoid distractions – as anyone who wanted her for business would ring the landline – and eaten in the office, she hadn't spoken to either Eve or Michael since the morning, and she didn't know what to say – she had flown off the handle for no reason earlier, after all – and the idea of returning to the house and having to act civil…it was almost too much. After all, all Eve had commented on was how she (truthfully) looked like crap, given that she hadn't exactly slept for most of the night, and so she had had no right to react the way she did.

"Miss?" Gérard said, as she stood in front of the bare section of wall used for portals for almost three minutes, time spent not even summoning a portal. "Are you returning home, or…?" he trailed off, leaving it open for Claire to finish the sentence.

"Yes, I'm going," she said, smiling ever so slightly, but the movement of her lips didn't reach her eyes.

With that, she shut said eyes and focused on the Glass House living room, imagining the cracked, warped wooden door which was her entrance into her home, and then opened her eyes to see it before her. keeping the image of the Glass House as it was that morning in her mind, Claire opened the door, turning the knob to the left to reveal her desired location before her; she was seconds from being home.

As she walked into the living room, Claire realised that it was quiet. It was _too_ quiet for their home; there was _always_ something going on, even if there was only one person home. And given that it was after eight pm, she would have thought that both Michael and Eve would have been in, arguing over whatever they were cooking for dinner. But no, nothing; it was almost as though nobody was—

On the back of the sofa, a few paces away from where she entered the living room, Claire spotted a note addressed to her, in Eve's handwriting, hastily folded. Intrigued, Claire opened it…and her heart instantly sank.

_We've gone out for dinner. We'll see you tomorrow._

Claire froze up as she processed the connotations of the note; evidently, Eve was still mad at her – mad enough to persuade Michael to go out at night, in the world's only vamp town, just so that she could avoid cooking and eating dinner with Claire – and there was no chance to change that fact tonight since she was out. So not only did that leave their friendship with a gaping hole that was being left to fester, but Claire also had to cook something for dinner, which was bad when all she wanted to do was sit down and relax. She was getting lazy, what with working all day and getting her lunch prepared and brought to her – along with any other beverages she desired – and she felt as though things were slipping away from her already. She made this decision to be like Amelie _yesterday_, and she was already losing her friends, and even her grip on reality, given that the majority of her mind was consumed with thoughts of what else she could do for the town.

Things were changing already for Claire, and she wasn't sure if she liked it or not…

_~x~_

Over the next few days, Claire somehow managed to avoid both Eve and Michael; she began leaving for the office before either of them had even woken up, eating all three meals there so that she only had to return to the Glass House to go to bed. It created a slightly awkward atmosphere, tense and uncertain, in the house, but she had no intention of upsetting it; it was peaceful, compared to if they hashed it out through an argument, and her mind was most definitely focused on the town.

She had been in this mode for such a short period of time, and yet Claire felt herself changing; she knew that she was completely different to what she was like before, when she tried to balance her previous life with her new one, and aimed for equality between humans and vampires. Her life had changed in ways she couldn't even describe, and Claire honestly thought that if she didn't work herself to the bone, not stopping whenever she was awake, then she would begin to fall apart; already, the idea of talking to her friends, to Sam or Myrnin, seemed foreign – even if they were on speaking terms, Claire was positive that she would have to have a reason to speak to Eve or Michael, rather than merely being in their presence.

As for Sam and Myrnin…both of them had been by the office scores of times in the past three days, yet neither of them made visits that lasted longer than fifteen minutes. This particularly long one was between Sam and Claire, when she was eating her lunch and decided to chat to him about how things were going – since she didn't step foot outside buildings now, without express reason – in her town, and whether or not he was alright. Talking to _Sam_ was now easier than the same conversation would be with Eve or Michael…and that should have worried Claire.

Instead, she seemed rather happy that she was settling into the niche Amelie had left her, because it meant that things were getting done. Finally, after months of inactivity, the town's needs were being met – and it was down to Claire and her new approach. Gone were emotions: if something had to be done, if someone had to be arrested for their crimes, Claire no longer cared. She didn't sentence anyone – that was one thing that Amelie did that she said she couldn't manage – but she ensured that they went to Richard, who would then direct them down the appropriate route.

She was no longer warm and open, the bubbly Claire that the staff had grown used to serving – she was different. And some of them – especially Sam – didn't like it.

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><p>Please don't read, alert or favourite without reviewing, thanks<p> 


	17. Developments

_Chapter 17:_

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><p>Myrnin was worried about Claire.<p>

Before the crisis, he had thought she was coping with the position she had been given – not doing brilliantly in all fairness, but coping and getting to grips with what she wanted to do with the town. With the headstrong nature of Claire Danvers, he had known – or, at least presumed – that there would be a rebellion against her changes, and that Sam and himself would be required to solve it…there had even been something similar with Amelie, though she had required much less help to resolve the issue.

Since then, though…he had noticed a change in Claire. Gone was the happy, easily pleased girl who would chat about anything, though particularly science, until the cows came home, and in her place was an ice-cold, perfect version. She reminded him far too much of Amelie, something which caused a pain to momentarily immobilise him when he thought of his lost friend, and if it wasn't so outrageously ludicrous to believe, he would have thought that Amelie had somehow told her how to behave as Founder.

She wasn't happy, and Myrnin knew that; even though the selfishness his inherited illness caused him to have, he could tell that. Claire was confused, and no matter what he tried to do to alleviate this, he couldn't; she didn't want to talk to him, she didn't want to go to the laboratory and do experiments, and she acted as though they hadn't been friends before he solved her riot issue: he was a stranger to her, almost.

It was strange, he thought as he sat in his armchair, that he was so concerned about a human – even one as important as Claire. If one of the livestock was important in the past, he would turn them so that they wouldn't be lost to the ravaging sea of time, but he found himself unable to turn Claire; it was against her wishes, and he had promised he wouldn't do it, unless it was to save her life – and that last clause was something he had agreed only with Sam, not Claire. Myrnin had broken many, many promises in his long lifetime, mainly to those he cared about the most, but this was one he was determined to keep.

Perhaps he was imagining it – after all, he had a wild imagination, when the beast loomed close to taking control of his mind – and perhaps she was the same…perhaps it was him who was off kilter, unable to process things correctly. There was a chance of this, after all, given the concoctions he consumed just to try and keep an eternal monster at bay – he could have imagined that she had changed to become more like Amelie, after all. But there was one person who had been close to her before he thought she changed and who he was comfortable talking to: Sam.

Amelie's lover had spent time with Claire, and Myrnin knew it was to try and understand the world Amelie had surrounded herself in, rather than be with him. Romantic feelings were always going to be reserved for Amelie in Sam's heart, Myrnin knew, and there was nothing more than friendship between the new Founder and the dead one's love…but he knew what Claire was like. If she had changed recently, Sam would have realised it, too.

Bounding to his feet, Myrnin summoned a portal to Sam's flat, and made a mental note to go check the machine later. He knew that there was something about it that he was forgetting, and that he had been for some time…but what it was, he couldn't recall.

"Sam!" he hissed into the darkness, an errant thought about how humans considered this level of light impossible to see through, and he was pleased to hear the sound of Sam moving around; he was home. "I want to talk to you."

"Couldn't you use the front door like a _normal_ person?" Sam sighed, turning a light on as he flashed across the room to be standing metres away from Myrnin. He must have recognised the expression that flashed onto Myrnin's face, because he instantly held his hands up and shook his head. "No, no, I don't want you to go out there and—"

But it was too late.

Myrnin had already disappeared through the portal, closing it and imagining the outside of Sam's flat; the walkway was concrete, grainy and not particularly pleasant, and it was on the third floor of the building the furthermost out from Morganville's centre. It wasn't a pleasant place to live, it seemed, but Myrnin even conjured up the full moon in his imagination of the outside of Sam's flat – he wasn't going to have _everything_ so ugly.

Once the vision was in his mind, Myrnin opened the door and emerged directly in front of Sam's green painted door; _funny_, he thought, _I could have sworn it was red_.

He moved to knock on the door, but discovered it was already open; Sam was standing there with an expression that reminded Myrnin of when Amelie wasn't amused. "There was no need for that," Sam said, stepping into his flat and motioning for Myrnin to follow.

"I thought your door was red," was all Myrnin could say as he slammed the offending door shut, not caring about the fact that it was four in the morning on a Wednesday.

"It was," Sam replied simply, picking up a mug from the table in the living room and drinking from it. Myrnin could detect the aroma of hazelnut coffee and instantly berated himself for never getting Claire to teach him how to make it. "I repainted it a few weeks back. She liked red…" he trailed off, and Myrnin knew not to press the subject.

"If you couldn't tell, I am not here to intrude on your home and provoke you into being hospitable," he said, jumping across the room to land on the sofa, his pirate boots somehow covered in mud.

"Good, otherwise you'd've been out on your ear in an instant," Sam muttered, following his guest across. "Do feel free to take your time to tell me why you're here; I don't have _any_ plans _whatsoever_," he continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Myrnin smiled and tucked his hands behind his head, twisting his back so that he was looking at Sam. "That is most convenient because I want to run through the periodic table a few hundred times more, and that would be best done _now_, so that I don't—"

"Tell me, _now_!" Sam half snapped, losing his patience. "And get your feet off my sofa; people sit there, and it's not pleasant to have loony Myrnin remains on there."

Myrnin managed to look semi-affronted as he swung his legs around, sitting like a perfect gentleman. Only then did the humour slide from his face, as he recalled the purpose of his visit, and he said, "have you noticed anything…_strange_ about Claire recently? I define strange as being behaviour out of character for _her_, not in general, given how the newest generation's actions are extremely befuddling to me." He was about to get into a rant about how nobody appreciated his knowledge any longer and thought that they could walk over him, when Sam interrupted.

"Yes, yes, I noticed that, I thought I was the only one," he said, moving to take a seat in the armchair across from Myrnin, who noticed Sam's expression had darkened quite drastically.

"Does she seem…more distant to you?" the alchemist continued, not sure how to phrase things. He wanted to avoid directly mentioning Amelie, but he had a feeling that that resolve would be one of the many that he broke. "Almost as though she is—"

"Amelie," Sam finished, his voice seeming far away to Myrnin. "Yes. I tried to make myself think that it was just because I wanted her to be Amelie, so I was imagining things, but evidently I'm not. She's different, and it's just not Claire, to be so…so _cold_. She doesn't want help anymore, she doesn't want company and she thinks that she needs to do everything perfectly, or she'll die."

Myrnin considered this a moment; he knew these things, of course he did, but knowing now that it wasn't in his imagination…it made it seem more dangerous. He was always capable of imagining the end of the world – or, at least life as he knew it – and the fact that Claire had been part of that was bad enough.

The fact that it was _happening,_ however, was worse – Myrnin's predictions nearly always came true, if not caused by him then caused by someone far more powerful than himself. If he was imagining Claire falling apart, then she most likely would do, some time or later, as a result of _something_.

"But _why_?" he whispered to himself, ignoring Sam now. "Why would she do this, change everything about herself in order to become something she isn't?"

"Perhaps because this is her job now, and she wants to be like Amelie, because Claire thinks that _Amelie_ did the job perfectly," Sam replied, his voice slightly bitter. "She thinks that the sacrifices Amelie made for Morganville are worth it, because someone else did it, even though this town barely made it through—"

"Silence, Sam, I don't care about what you have to say about Amelie and her control of Morganville; she didn't leave you for the town, she left so that you were safe. I thought you knew that." Myrnin was harsh as he spoke to Sam, noting how the ginger haired man recoiled slightly at his words, but he continued anyway. "Claire saw someone who was in control, and as far as she was aware, the madness that occurred in Morganville was nothing to do with Amelie. I, however, disagree with this, but that is what Claire evidently thinks, and therefore she is of the opinion that emulating Amelie is the best option for her."

"And you disagree," Sam continued, his voice flat.

Myrnin looked at Sam, and he knew that the expression on his face would be one of shock mixed in with one looking as though he had never seen Sam before in his life. "Yes, of _course_ I disagree, Samuel! She isn't Amelie, there is no doubting that at all, and more than that, she's human! Her beliefs are different to Amelie's, ultimately, and you cannot say that trying to keep a town that's breaking apart together through methods from its old ruler is right."

Sam shrugged slightly, and for a second, Myrnin saw a flash across his eyes: he wanted that. Whilst he wanted Claire to be in charge and to take things forward for humans, something Sam had always wanted, he wanted Amelie back, and for everything to be as Amelie left it; he wanted the town to become almost a living monument to Amelie, to show what she did and how her legacy is continuing to shape the town – and that was something Myrnin knew was wrong.

Myrnin laughed in his head: if _his_ moral compass was in a better condition than someone else's, that other person had serious issues.

Finally, Sam let out a breath, and when he did, he was back to being the broken man from the very first days after Amelie's demise. "You're right," he agreed, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes as he spoke. "I know she isn't Amelie, and it's not right that she's trying to be. I get that. Just…maybe that's what she thinks she should do, and so maybe we should let her do it."

Myrnin rolled his eyes sarcastically, and this time, he did laugh out loud. "And that worked _extremely_ well last time, did it not?" he stated, the question rhetorical. "She has had her chance to make mistakes; next time, we cannot fix them. This is her time to shine, Sam, and if she doesn't ensure that the town is headed in the right direction…I may be forced to change her mind."

Sam didn't understand the connotation of his words – he was too absorbed in his thoughts to realise – and Myrnin was glad; he didn't have the time to discuss the morality of ensuring Claire's thoughts were on the right wavelength and that she wasn't being controlled by some out-of-Morganville force that he had never heard of.

Myrnin would find a way to save Claire from herself, even if he had to break every promise he'd made to keep her safe.

As he sat down on the sofa again, not saying a word as the tears filled Sam's eyes once more, he realised that he was glad of the company. Things were so very different in Morganville, and it had taken weeks for the effects of the changes to hit him: Amelie was dead – even Oliver was dead – and his little Claire was running the town, relatively well.

Little did either of them know that Claire's life was in danger.

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	18. Guns

_Chapter 18:_

It was cold, dark and Claire presumed wet outside her office, on the November evening; whilst it wasn't cold enough for snow, Claire knew that the water falling would solidify at least partially, and that there would be numerous patients in the accident and emergency unit at the hospital the following morning, due to their inability to stand on their own two feet. She didn't think about how she would, if she wasn't protected from such menial things as black ice, be with them, most likely, due to her lack of co-ordination in the winter months. Back home, she had often spent more time in plaster than out of it, between November and March, even though it wasn't that much further north than Morganville, so Claire was thankful that she didn't have to go outside.

Her office, compared to outside, was boiling, and Claire took a few moments' break from her work to open the window, looking out at Morganville as she did so. From the centre of town, it looked just like any normal town, with its shops and parks and street lights…it was just when she looked closer and realised that there were people loitering around on the street, even though it was past eleven pm at night, that she could tell that she was still in Morganville.

The night was the vampires' to play in, after all; she had yet to find a solution to that.

Taking a deep breath of the outside air, Claire slowly walked back to her desk, clicking her back muscles out as she did. The entire building was empty, she thought, because she had managed to get Gérard to return to the house, citing the need to just be alone for an hour as the reason why. He hadn't taken that much persuading, particularly when she promised she wouldn't even leave the room, and she would be heading straight through a portal to the Glass House when she was done – she felt that he understood she required a little time alone, even if it was in an office to do work.

The silence comforted Claire as much as it worried her; there was something soothing about the lack of noise, something that meant that she didn't have to pretend to be someone she wasn't really – not on the inside – and allowed her to relax. She didn't have to be Amelie when there was nobody around; she only had her own expectations to live up to.

Yet it scared her. Silence meant that she had nobody around, that she was isolated in the town – nobody wanted to be near her, outside of an official capacity. She had made Eve and Michael hate her, something that was festering since she refused to speak to them, and there was a decisive lack of contact from Myrnin or Sam these days; it was as though now she had adapted to fit the job – or had even _taken_ the job – they no longer wanted to be friendly with her, Myrnin especially.

She had thought that they had had a friendship, one that was forged from mutual respect and an understanding of one another – his absence made her think otherwise. Admittedly, she didn't want his help and had declined the offer of him (and Sam) coming to the office during her 'work hours', but that didn't mean that he couldn't at least try.

_But he _did_ try_, her subconscious argued as Claire sat down, _both of them did; it was you who pushed them away and made them feel stupid. They weren't going to push and push, were they? You hit the limit and now you're alone_.

Claire half wondered why she was having this discussion with herself, and somehow managed to dispel the feelings of loneliness and slight animosity towards Myrnin and Sam, by turning her attention to the computer screen. It had the latest figures from the power usage board on it, and Claire was just about to get dug into analysing what they meant, when she heard a noise.

That itself was enough. The silence she had spent a few moments analysing on her way back from the window was broken for just a few moments, but that was long enough for Claire; someone was somewhere in the building, most likely on her floor, and there was nobody else here. She was alone. She was going to_ die_.

Her heart racing, Claire stood up and pressed a few buttons on one of the consoles above her head, bringing up a CCTV camera image of the hallway beyond her door: empty. There was nobody there. To confirm that there was nobody on the floor – or the one below – Claire even had the cameras move, changed viewpoints and did everything she could to ensure that she had a complete image of the floor; unless the person was a vampire or able to hide in spaces the size of a five year old child, she was safe.

Perhaps she had imagined the noise, Claire considered as she took a seat once more. She had been so focused on how there was absolutely no noise whatsoever, there was a possibility that she had created something in her mind, just to remind herself that she wasn't alone in the town. That was possible, after all, and it seemed the most likely of the two options; if someone _had_ intruded, they wouldn't know that the place was empty, and that she had no bodyguard with her – as far as they were aware, she was being protected by the best bodyguard in Morganville.

Comforted by this thought, Claire sat back down and tried to focus on the data values before her, but she couldn't, not really; every time she thought she had found a pattern in the usage – that it was higher in the flats when it was cooler, but in the summer months, the large houses in town used more, was one theory – she discovered discrepancies, and within minutes, she was irritated. Gone was the ice-coldness of her attempts to be Amelie; in its place was the fiery teenage girl called Claire Danvers, and she was stressed.

And then, before she could decide whether she was going to call it a night or try and work on through the irritation and confusion, Claire heard the noise again.

She snapped her head up instantly, certain now that it wasn't a figment of her imagination, and, senses alert as much as hers possibly could be, she turned her head slowly around her office, as though someone was in there with her. It was louder than before, too, and Claire knew that if she was being clever, she would call through the portal to Gérard and have him come and destroy whoever it was after her…but she didn't.

Instead, Claire decided to take a look around her office herself.

Grasping a paperweight from the desk, Claire stood up and, eyes narrowed, began to peer around the room with an even greater intensity than before; if looks could paralyse, she was certain that hers would easily freeze any intruder to the spot – and _then_ it would be her bodyguard's chance to shine.

But, there was nothing. Literally nothing; it was her and the office equipment in the room, and nothing more – so where was the intruder, if there was one?

Claire raced back across the room to check the CCTV cameras, but as before, there was not one trace of human life on there – or even vampiric life; it was empty. This was the only room that had any lights on…she was alone, truly.

So where was this noise coming from?

It was only then, with her back to the window, did the hairs on the back of Claire's neck stand on end, and she had a gut feeling that there was someone standing behind her. This was confirmed when she heard the click of a gun – how preposterous, she knew, but it was happening – and a slight laugh. "Hello, sweetheart," someone said, someone whose voice she didn't recognise.

Taking this opportunity to turn around, Claire did so, slowly to ensure that he didn't do anything. "What do you want?" she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"First, I want you to put that paperweight down – we don't want you getting injured now, do we?" he replied, and Claire immediately did what he wanted, raising her hands into the air after doing so. "Now, I want you to pay for what you're doing to this town, taking over after the old bitch was killed," he continued, his voice suddenly more of a snarl than anything else. _He_ was the one who seemed more like a vampire than even some of the vampires Claire knew, with the way that he spoke.

"Why?" she asked, her voice barely trembling, something Claire was proud of. "You're not in a worse position than when Amelie was in charge –why kill me? Or, if you're so sure that this is the right thing to do, why did you wait until I was alone to sneak in through the window to then kill me?"

"I had to wait until you were alone," he said simply. "And when all the lights went out, save the ones in here, I knew it was time to act, that you would have maximum two others in here. And I could have taken them – look, silver bullets," he explained, and Claire could tell that he was sickly gleeful about what he was showing her.

"Why did you not try and kill Amelie? Why are you just going for me?" Claire managed to make her voice as strong as possible, refraining from crying. This situation was all absolutely ridiculous – surely, her bodyguard would burst through the door!

But nobody did. It was her, this mystery gunman and a gun that was pointed in her direction…and she had no chance of getting away from it…unless…

"Don't even think about yelling for your bodyguard," the man threatened her, as though he had suddenly read her thoughts. "And I did try and kill the vampire – many times. In my eyes, you're worse; you're _human_ and choosing to do this to your own kind. That's disgusting, trapping us here, wanting the vampires to kill us – to kill your _friends_. It sickens me. So you're the first to die under this new regime. The vampires are next though, so don't worry…you'll have many friends wherever you go after death."

It was at that point that Claire felt the tears streaming down her cheeks; she wasn't getting out of here.

"Please," she whispered, the agony in her voice. "I'm only _seventeen_! I…you don't want to kill me, you don't, I know it."

"On the contrary, Miss Danvers, I've been waiting to do this since I heard you became the Founder's pet, all those months ago," the man said. "Say goodbye to me, sweetheart, because the face of Jeremy Vine is going to be the last one you ever see."

Claire had no chance to move, and even if she could, she felt that she was paralysed, unable to move even a muscle. She was stone cold with fear, and all she could do was watch as the man – Jeremy Vine, apparently – lifted the gun to be level with her chest.

"Please," she tried to say again, but her voice stuck in her throat, the tears clouding her vision of the gun aimed at her. She was going to die. She was going to _die_.

"I feel a _little_ bad about killing a child," Jeremy conceded, yet he didn't lower the gun. "But your actions have made me your enemy, little girl, and those who follow Captain Obvious _always_ kill their enemies."

Claire closed her eyes as the gun was fired, and she could almost feel the bullet flying through the air, heating up its surroundings as it moved quicker than she expected towards her.

The impact forced her to stagger backwards, the pain something she could never have expected, and she screamed in agony, collapsing to the ground – all within a few seconds.

"You'll die soon, sweetheart," Jeremy promised her as he walked towards the door, leaving her there, on the floor, a bullet in her chest. "It's more merciful than leaving you to become vampire chow when you displease them later – believe me."

And with that, he left, leaving Claire alone, screaming for help, her hands on her chest as she tried to staunch the ever growing bleed from her chest.

_She was going to die._

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	19. Discoveries

_Chapter 19:_

_Claire's POV:_

Claire was cold.

As the blood poured from her body, covering her hands in the thick liquid that was what kept her alive, her body grew colder and colder. First her feet, then her hands as she pressed them into her chest as hard as she could, until most of her body felt as though she was unable to move it…her body was shutting down, preserving all of her energy for her heart and brain so that she had a greater survival chance than attempting to power her entire body. Not that she felt that she would get out of this situation; Claire knew that if nobody was there to hear her being shot, there was no chance that anyone would come running to her rescue…

She had pushed away the only people who would help her – Myrnin and Sam – and now she was regretting it most definitely…her only chance now was her bodyguard, but he thought she would be home in an hour's time – and Claire didn't have an hour left.

She had minutes, if that.

Ignoring the pain, Claire pressed deeper into her chest, attempting to stop the blood flow, though it was to no avail; it just kept pouring, running between her fingers to stain her clothes and drip down onto the floor, creating a pool around her body. She knew that it was a vampire's paradise, her situation, and that most likely, the first thing that any vampire would do when they found her would be to do with the blood on the floor. Blood first, the body of the Founder second: that was how things worked around here…

"Why?" she whispered, her voice barely audible to her own ears; the sound of the blood thrumming in her ears was what her hearing was focused on, noticing how the speed slowed with every minute that passed, noticing how she was getting closer and closer to hearing her own death – because surely soon her heart rate and blood pressure would drop to too low levels, due to the lack of blood in her body. Surely soon, she would slip off into a sleep that was permanent, a closure of her eyes that could never be reversed.

Surely soon, she would be free from this pain.

Claire's brain, as well as thinking about the fact that she was going to die soon, was focused on all the different possibilities of rescue. The idea of it was ludicrous – there was no way that she would be saved if nobody was in the building; the odds of someone coming to work _now_, in the run up to midnight, were astronomically low – but she had nothing else to will her on. Only thoughts about how she could be saved, no matter how unlikely they were, would stop her giving up and waiting for death to take her. Claire had survived so much before, both from humans and the supernatural creatures that haunted Morganville, and she wasn't going to be defeated by some idiot who wanted to make a stand against her and her authority in Morganville.

Even ideas such as dialling 911 were impossible. Her phone was on her desk, and there was no way that she could even crawl over to her desk, let alone reach up and pull the phone down to her level so that she could use it. Nothing seemed potentially plausible in such a daunting, unchangeable situation, because as the time ticked on and on, Claire realised that there _was_ no solution: there was no way to save a girl whose main arteries had most likely been ruptured by a high-calibre bullet. In short, Claire was dying on this floor, as that Jeremy had said, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

Her eyelids began to flutter, and no matter how much effort she put into straining to keep them open, Claire just couldn't. They felt as though they were lined with lead, and within another thirty seconds, what she could see was reduced to merely blurry shapes. There was no value in seeing what was there: nothing that could save her life.

Claire's breathing got shallower, and the pressure she exerted on her own chest seemed to just…disappear. She may as well have had her hands on her head, the amount of good they were doing to staunch the blood flow. It was in this moment that Claire, very clinically, realised that she was going to die here, on this floor, tonight…

…and part of her didn't even mind.

What little strength she had left disappearing, Claire's head flopped back on the floor, and her eyes fully closed, her body relaxing.

Waiting, ready, for death to claim her as its own.

_Sam's POV:_

As time ticked by, Sam grew less and less enchanted – and he hadn't been particularly happy in the first place – by the minute as Myrnin extended his stay. Even the outright hints for him to leave hadn't worked, and Sam was wondering just what excuse he could put together in order to kick the older vampire out of his home, and ensure that the remainder of the night could be spent doing enjoyable things…or, more likely, considering the course of action he would attempt to take with Claire. He didn't want her to fail, he really didn't, but there was something wrong with the way that she was acting. It had taken Myrnin pointing it out to him to notice, but Sam knew that the town didn't need another Amelie.

As much as it pained him to say it, Amelie Mark Two was not going to bring about stability to Morganville. Amelie could live on only in memory.

"I need to go by and check…that I turned the heater off earlier in Claire's office," Sam said suddenly, feeling the need to get away from Myrnin's incessant humming. Nothing had worked to get him to leave, not even a direct, "don't you have things to be blowing up?" and if his guest wasn't Myrnin, Sam would have said that he was almost lonely…but this was Myrnin. The scientist never got lonely, and if he did, he could probably make himself a friend – most likely a clone of himself – so that wasn't the reason. But Sam had to get out of there before he turned his own home into a site that would look as though a wrecking ball had torn through it, and the quietest place he could think of was Claire's office. There was no chance that she'd be there _now_, so close to midnight, and therefore it was his perfect respite from spending the evening with Myrnin. That would probably be the worst form of punishment possible, to spend time with the Myrnin in this mood, and he wasn't about to spend extra time enduring it if he didn't have to.

"I…shall I join you?" Myrnin replied suddenly, standing up alongside Sam.

"No, no, it's fine!" Sam's response came too quick, and for a second, he felt bad as the hurt look flashed across Myrnin's face. "Stay here if you want…just please, don't destroy the place. I do like living here, you know."

With that, Sam strode across the room towards the old-fashioned door on the wall, the one that shouldn't be there; when Myrnin had decided to pop outside to enter his flat through the front door, this door hadn't un-materialised, and for this, Sam was glad. He didn't have the skill to summon a portal, and if he had to ask Myrnin, the other vampire would both never let it slide, and insist on coming with him.

Closing his eyes, Sam imagined the office that Amelie had once possessed, yet that Claire now owned, with the differences and the similarities to its previous occupant's rule particularly sharp in his mind. He reached out for the doorknob and pulled, taking a step through the portal and knowing instantly that something was wrong—but what?

The door swung shut behind him and disappeared; he didn't know if that was meant to happen or not, but that wasn't his focus. What was his focus, was the strong smell of blood in the air – fresh blood, blood that was still pouring – and the fact that it was focused on the other side of the desk.

Moving swiftly, Sam moved across the room, hearing the sound of a human heartbeat that was slowly stopping, and then stopped short as soon as he recognised the scent…and saw the body.

Claire.

She was barely moving, her clothes covered in blood, the floor around her coated in it also, and Sam had to wonder how she was still alive, with all the blood she had lost – and _how_ had she lost it? It didn't make sense to him as he moved towards her, attempting to hold his breath to avoid the predator in him wanting the blood that had been lost, picking her up in his arms and laying her on her desk…not until he saw the hole in her chest, anyway.

"Who did this to you?" he whispered, this being the first noise that had occurred since his arrival, save for the beating of Claire's heart, and the shallow noise of her breathing. She wasn't going to last long, though; he knew immediately that the state of her body and the blood loss meant that she wouldn't survive surgery, and that she was dying at the present moment in time. There was nothing to be done to save her life.

For the briefest of moments, a selfish streak overtook Sam: he had lost Amelie, so why could those who loved Claire not lose her? If she died now, he could go back to Myrnin and pretend that she was already dead; evidently, whoever had attacked her had not expected another person to enter her office, so the murder could have been committed at any point in the previous hours.

Almost immediately, however, Sam felt sickened with himself; this girl was different to Amelie, different to everyone, and she had the chance to unite the town in a way that Amelie hadn't been able to manage. She was loyal, loving and kind…everything that the leader needed to show. If Claire changed her attitude back to how she used to be, Sam knew that she would be the greatest leader the town could hope to have…but only if she lived.

As though she knew that Sam was there, Claire's eyelids fluttered slightly, but did not open. However, as his hand gripped hers, there was the tiniest change in pressure exerted from her ice-cold hand; evidently, Sam thought, she knew that he was there, and knew that he was going to be with her during her death.

He couldn't let her die, though. There was no way quicker to disband the town if the second leader in as many months died; Claire had to live, whether she liked the way that she did or not.

Sam knew that he only had a minute to start the process, and he spent several seconds hesitating; he was going to do it regardless, but he didn't know if perhaps he should have summoned Myrnin to change her. His only knowledge was hazy, a clouded memory of his own turning, but he knew that Myrnin's emotional attachment to Claire would render him unable to turn her: Sam had to do it.

"Forgive me," he whispered into Claire's ear, letting go of her wrist as his fangs slid down. He wasn't entirely sure on what he was meant to do…but he would try. He only had to try, after all, to have succeeded something; if she did not live, she perhaps was not meant to live.

But he hoped that she did: Claire was the leader of Morganville, and as Sam knew perfectly well, the leaders did not give up without a fight.

Sam's fangs pressed to Claire's throat and allowed the last trickles of blood in her body to enter his mouth…now, the conversion could begin.

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	20. Turning

_Chapter 20:_

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><p><em>Sam's POV:<em>

Sam knew that there was a very small chance that this conversion would work—after all, he barely knew what to do, and she could be too far gone—but he had to try. He still felt disgusted with himself for thinking that maybe Claire deserved to die, and if only for that reason (though there were many, many others) he raised his wrist to his lips to rip open the skin. It pained him to see her lying on the desk, utterly still, only the faint beating of her heart indicating that she hadn't passed away into another world, and so he moved faster than before, desperate to ensure that she didn't die.

He opened her mouth with one hand and placed the other, bleeding wrist over it so that the blood dripped into her mouth. To make sure that she swallowed it, Sam tilted Claire's head backwards, allowing the blood to trickle down her throat even if she didn't consciously swallow it. Whilst he was sure that he had been conscious enough to swallow, the situation was completely different to this, and this was the only way that Sam knew how to make sure that Claire at least had a chance.

Noises coming from behind him startled Sam, and he half-turned around to see Myrnin standing in the portal doorway, his body crumpled against the frame. Evidently, Sam had forgotten to close the portal door properly—he didn't know how long Myrnin had been standing there, but he was there now.

"Let me do it," Myrnin whispered as he realised his position had been recognised.

"No," Sam snapped back, trying to concentrate on Claire. "I've started it—it's not the best idea to switch."

He heard a whimper and almost succumbs to Myrnin's request, before the other, older vampire agreed with him. "Yes, yes, you're absolutely right, don't know what I was thinking," he muttered, half to himself, half to Sam. "My blood is tainted with madness; that wouldn't be a good thing to give a new vampire, particularly one as important as Claire." Myrnin continued to murmur on, Sam no longer paying attention; the reason wasn't what he had thought of, but it was equally as important. There was no point having a leader who was controlled by a force even Myrnin couldn't combat, no point whatsoever.

The wound healed over on Sam's wrist, and so he reopened it, not sure how much blood the girl would need before she was ready to become a vampire. He knew that it wasn't gender specific, the blood, otherwise Amelie wouldn't have succeeded in turning him…he just worried that he would need power that he didn't have—or that would result in his death, too. Sam hated to admit it but he was scared of death, scared of what changes it would bring to him, and, perhaps most importantly, where he would turn up.

Somewhere deep inside Sam's brain, he felt the beginning of something pulling upon him—it was an external force, something weak and most likely new; it didn't have the strength to build itself without him. This, he felt, was the forming vampire within Claire's body; his blood within her body was coagulating to form the basis of the new vampire, but it needed to draw on his conscious strength in his mind to complete the process—and so he gave it full access. As he closed his eyes, the wound on his wrist healed and he did not reopen it because if the process had begun, there was no need to give her more of what he needed to ensure that the transformation was successful. So, remembering his own turning as best as he could, he copied Amelie's move back then by placing his fingers upon Claire's temples as lightly as possible, feeling the strength from his brain pass through into her brain. It was strange, Sam thought, to feel the movement of something between his body and Claire's, and how, when in the latter body, it seemed to take on a kind of subservient position, as though what it was forming was loyal to him. He wasn't sure if he liked it, because something made him think that this was creating a responsibility that he would take on.

A whisper left his lips as he realised suddenly just how tired he had become in a matter of minutes; it felt as though the world was ice-cold around him, and that he was seconds from sleep, which wasn't supposed to happen. Claire didn't seem halfway towards being a vampire, and he was almost spent. It was this that made Sam realise that _this_ was why no young vampire was supposed to turn another; it took energy and power, things that he barely had, and if you were too young, you didn't have enough to sustain yourself and another.

It was moments like this that made Sam realise just _how_ strong Amelie was. Even as he was putting all his energy into saving Claire, he found time (and energy) to think of the woman he had lost. She not only had the ability to look after herself through some of the hardest periods of life, but she could be attached to many hundreds of vampire offspring, as well as conquests; she had a mindlink with them all, even _him_, and she had never faltered—not until the end, at least. She had remained strong and true to them all, answering when they were in danger, and if that was what he had to live up to…well, Sam thought, at least he had had a good role model.

"She should be waking now," Myrnin muttered, and before Sam could even open his eyes, the elder vampire was standing on the other side of Claire. "There's something wrong, something not quite completely changing within her mind—are you sure that you're wholly concentrating?" he snapped at Sam, who jumped slightly.

"Quite sure," he responded, closing his eyes once more and focusing back on the task, though this time, he refused to think of Amelie. He had the rest of eternity to do that, after all, whereas he only had perhaps seconds to save Claire. "I'm…thirsty," he had to admit to Myrnin, breaking his concentration for a moment. "If I don't get…something, I'll not be able to complete the process."

Another reason why perhaps it was doomed to fail was the way that he hadn't received enough…nourishment from Claire before he attempted this, Sam thought, a slightly bitter tinge to the idea. She hadn't given him the strength to be able to give up so much of himself—her blood was covering her clothes after all, not lining his throat—and so that hindered the process. But Sam fought on, struggling to send every ounce of power in his body to the girl lying on the desk so that she at least had a fighting chance of survival.

Something was forced against his lips, and Sam attempted to fight it off, realising near immediately that it was futile. He was close to collapse, and whatever it was that Myrnin was giving him had to help.

"Stupid man," Myrnin growled, even as Sam's lips opened to permit the beaker's contents to enter his body. "Do you not understand the strength required to complete this task? Amelie barely managed it when she was one hundred years old; it almost killed her. But I suppose you never considered that before, did you? It was just an immediate response—you could have called me, could have called Gérard, could have called _anyone_ who would have the strength to do it…but you didn't." Myrnin sounded almost angry at Sam for doing what he did, but he didn't have the time—or, indeed, the ability—to argue with the old man. Everything he had was focused on Claire, including the new strength he had received from the blood.

It was as though this final surge had connected within Claire's body; rather than there being some sort of connection, not wholly defined, Sam could suddenly feel the electrifying bond between his body and Claire's, could feel the pulses of energy whirling around Claire's body, and he knew that she was alive. Well, whatever they were—animated to appear to be living, when in fact they were dead. But that wasn't the issue; Claire was not going to pass away from this world.

She was going to _survive_—just in a different form.

"We don't need to worry," Sam whispered as he removed his fingers from Claire's temples, opening his eyes as he spoke. The blood had helped but it wasn't enough, and as he walked away, he staggered slightly, resulting in Myrnin bringing him a chair. "She's coming over—I think it'll take a bit longer than normal, however long that is, but she's going to be fine…I hope." Burying his head in his hands, Sam tried to breathe normally, but found he couldn't. Everything had happened so fast, his decision had been split-second—what if it was the wrong one? What if she would rather have had death than this?

He hoped that he knew Claire, but perhaps he didn't. Perhaps the side of her that was like Shane, so anti-vampire that even surviving death was wrong—was stronger than the side that wanted to help them all, and that at the end, she would rather be dead than be animated by the sacrifice of others. Though they tried to live off the donations of humans, Sam knew that they were a parasitic race, born to feed off of humans and not give anything back in return, and if they didn't have self-restraint, every human was theirs to kill.

Deep within thought, Sam didn't realise that Claire's heart had stopped and that there were slight noises issuing from her mouth; it took Myrnin flinging himself at him to notice, which didn't exactly help the relationship between the pair of them.

"Do that again and I'll make sure that you don't have access to anywhere I go!" Sam snapped, his temper shorter than usual, though he did lean forwards to look at Claire as he spoke.

"Maybe if you weren't so much of a _thinker_, you would have noticed that your sired child has awoken," Myrnin grumbled, moving to Claire's other side. "Claire, are you alright?" he asked, leaning forwards to look at the girl's face.

There wasn't anything different about her appearance Sam thought as he looked at Claire; perhaps her skin was a shade or two paler, as his was, but everything else seemed the same. The idea that vampires were more beautiful than humans just simply wasn't true.

Something that proved Claire wasn't her old self, though, was her reaction when their skin met.

She growled, her eyes snapping open, bright crimson and dangerous, and she lunged at him, desperate to get her newly discovered fangs into his neck.

Sam sighed. This wasn't meant to happen.

* * *

><p><em>Claire's POV:<em>

Everything burned; as she changed, there wasn't a part of her that didn't burn with a fierceness that scared her—she didn't realise that there was this much anger in the birth of a vampire…well, anger was the wrong word, but it fitted as best as Claire could find a word to explain how she felt. It wasn't happy, becoming what she now was; it hurt, sent shockwaves right the way into her core as every part of her became something new, and there was a fierceness behind it that almost _wanted_ her to attack. It felt as though because she was going through this torturous agony, someone else ought to as well—and from the off, Claire tried to fight this feeling.

She tried…and failed. Because as soon as Sam's hand touched her own, she snapped; all her control in the past minutes faded to nothing as fangs ripped through her gums, causing the last of her human blood to cascade from her mouth, her eyes snapped wide open, everything tinged a strange shade of red…and she attacked.

Before her fangs met Sam's neck, however, someone pulled her from Sam, throwing her backwards against the desk. It took a few seconds to work out that it was Myrnin, and before the newborn vampire within her could react to this, he was feeding her something that made everything else seem like nothing; no worries could trouble her as she drank deeply, absorbing the warmth that the drink spread through her near instantly. It was akin to drinking a mug of steaming hot chocolate after going out for a long walk in the cold; every part of her was revitalised.

Including her still very human brain—well, as human as a vampire brain could be—and with that, the realisation that she had almost hurt the man who had saved her life.

Looking down at her stomach in shock, Claire realised that she was covered in her own blood—which felt different to how she imagined it would; it was wet and it was blood, but she felt no desire to drink it which she supposed was good—and that she…she no longer had a hole in her stomach.

Things were too weird for her to handle.

So Claire did the one thing that a vampire still seemed to be able to do in order to escape the real world; she collapsed, hitting her head against the desk as she did so.


	21. Acceptance

I'm sorry I haven't updated this in so, so long.

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><p><em>Chapter 21:<em>

_Claire's POV:_

Sleep—or, rather, forced unconsciousness—didn't entirely bring Claire reprieve from the insanity that was her real life, but it gave her enough to get away from the situation and consider things logically. She was now what she had professed she would never become, not to mention the leader of a town which contained a rapidly growing Captain Obvious movement—a movement which not only existed, but had attempted to have her assassination as its first victory under the new regime.

All too soon for Claire, however, her brain began to bring her back around to consciousness, something which felt very different to how she did before. Her body felt…strange; it was as though she was extremely strong at the same time as being weak, as though she hadn't eaten in days. Noises emanating from outside the window were now audible to Claire, and smells were that bit more noticeable than she could ever remember them being before.

She could also hear the conversation between the two others in the room, even though they were speaking quietly and at an extremely fast pace. "She needs to wake up and mark her authority over the rest of the town, otherwise all may be lost." Claire recognised Myrnin's voice, his tone harsher and colder than it normally was; it was more…authoritative. That was what it was, authoritative; it was exactly what she was supposed to become, what she had become, to a certain degree.

"She's just changed _species_, Myrnin; do you really think that that's something the mind can accept easily?" Sam retaliated. "Give her all the time she needs, she can take over the control of the town then. Speaking of power, however…" he trailed off, spiking Claire's interest in what he wanted to say, yet was unwilling to.

"Go on," Myrnin said, equally as interested; Claire could hear it in his voice.

"I...what do I do about this power bond between us?" Sam asked, a note of uncertainty present in his tone. "I don't want it, of course, but it already feels weird and I don't know how it's going to play out in the future."

Now he had mentioned it, Claire did realise the existence of some sort of tenuous connection between herself and Sam; she knew it wasn't a physical manifestation of power, and that it was entirely in her mind, but she was aware that he was stronger than her—and that if he really wanted her to do something, she would do it. She wouldn't have a choice. _That_ was possibly the weirdest thing about the entire conversion process. Sure, she didn't have a heartbeat and she was certain if something angered her she'd try and kill it, but…before she had always been her own person.

Now, if Sam wanted her to force her to do something, he could.

"Well, I suppose it means if she's annoying you or you want her to start playing the drums outside Common Grounds, she'll have to do it." Myrnin's response was far too light-hearted for the situation, and it left Claire indignant.

Before she thought it through, Claire lifted her head and replied. "I am _not_ playing the drums anywhere near Common Grounds _ever_! I have about as much musical talent as a rat does."

Both Myrnin and Sam turned around to face Claire, worry evident on both of their faces. Within a second they were standing in front of her, Sam's hands tapping on the desk with an irregular pattern.

"How do you feel?" Myrnin questioned immediately. "Do you require Theo?"

It took Claire a moment or two to remember who Theo was, before she placed him as the friendly Jewish doctor, Theo Goldman.

In the meanwhile, Claire noticed Myrnin and Sam exchanging a glance, almost as if to say they would call him no matter what her response was.

"I'm fine!" Claire protested, running a hand through her hair. Absent-mindedly, she wondered if her hair would continue to grow now she was…dead, or if she'd be stuck with hair this length for the rest of her days. That was probably a question to ask after she got over the shock of being a vampire, however.

Myrnin raised a quizzical eyebrow as he sat down in one of the seats in front of her desk. "Claire, it took you a full ten seconds to recall who Theo was: your brain ought to work much faster than that now you are one of us." He glanced sideways at Sam before continuing. "I want the doctor to consider your situation, considering the youth of your sire and the…slightly lower quantity of blood passed to you from him."

Claire stared at Myrnin, hoping her eyes looked like they were boring into his soul. She had always wondered how people did that; she would have to learn, especially now if she had power over this town for the rest of its existence.

"I'm fine," she protested once again, though she wasn't quite as sure as she had been five seconds ago. Her brain processing speed did seem to have sped up…but it wasn't making the leaps Myrnin's did. She hoped she wasn't being bratty or obnoxious, but she _had_ to be as clever as Myrnin was when he was turned: why couldn't she think things through as fast as he could?

"Sam, if you would please fetch Theo," Myrnin said, sounding as though he was giving an order. "Also, it may be an idea to fetch Gérard; I cannot imagine he will be impressed to discover we have not informed him of these turn of events."

Sam, to Claire's amusement, didn't move an inch from his seat. "I don't mean to be rude, Myrnin, but I think Claire and I have a few things to discuss—things that you don't have in common with her."

The look of perplexity on Myrnin's face further amused Claire—far more than she thought it should, yet it did anyway. "I presume you're referring to the fact you sired her and so wish to discuss what this means and your _feelings_?" He scoffed slightly, as though feelings and emotions were nothing to be concerned with—something rich coming from Myrnin. "I have sired many offspring: I know what to inform her."

Claire decided to intervene before the situation escalated to the point that the two men forgot that they were here to discuss _her_ feelings and future rather than which of their ideas was the best.

"How about we remember that _I_ make the decisions around here?" Claire said, raising her voice ever so slightly so that she was speaking louder than both Sam and Myrnin had been. "Now, don't take this personally, Myrnin, but I want a chat with Sam. So if you're insisting on fetching Theo, you can go. Though I do agree that it would be a decent idea if Gérard found out _before_ I go home and tell him that I drink blood now and would he please get me a pint of o neg."

The look on Myrnin's face suggested he thought he was better than a lapdog sent to do what was asked of him, yet after a second or two he stood up. "I do think that we should have a discussion upon my return, yet I shall do as you bid," Myrnin commented, looking as though he wanted to lean forwards and hug her. _That_ would be weird. "Yet…before I go I must say…it is good to see you alive, Claire."

Whether being a vampire was considered alive or not, Claire couldn't say, yet it was better than being dead and not being able to converse with the people she loved. "Thanks, Myrnin. We'll talk later, promise. At least this means I can use those dangerous chemicals now!"

He left without replying, and so Claire's attention turned to Sam.

There was an awkward silence for over five minutes after Myrnin left, Claire wringing her hands during it whilst Sam merely stared at the far corner of the office. She didn't know what to say to him: did she thank him for saving her life, or did she try and stay away from that realm of thought? After all, he had managed to save her—something he hadn't managed to do for Amelie.

Sam broke the silence, allowing Claire to avoid broaching any particular subject. "I'm sorry for doing it, you know," he said, causing all activity in Claire's brain to stop. He regretted saving her life? "I don't mean that I didn't want you to live. I just meant that…I took away all power over your life from you. Noone should have the power of life or death, and I didn't even ask you; I just acted. So I'm sorry."

Slowly, Claire counted to ten in her head before she looked across at Sam, just to see him still staring at the wall of the office.

"Sam," she began hesitantly, feeling the need to clear her throat. "You didn't do anything wrong. I obviously didn't want this, it wasn't on my to-do list, but…you were in a difficult situation, and what you did is what I wanted. I could have resisted if I wanted to, but I didn't. _I wanted this_. So please don't beat yourself up about it; let's just forget how it happened, yeah?"

For the first time since Myrnin left, Sam looked across at Claire, his expression blank. With great solemnity, he nodded, the corner of his mouth turning up. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea," he said, running a hand through his hair. "It's just so weird, you know? I can feel you—not what you're doing or what you're feeling, just…you're there, and I can't shake the feeling away."

A wry smile appeared on Claire's lips as she nodded in understanding. "I have the same—it's weird, like I'm not my own person anymore. I never expected to feel that way. Michael hasn't ever said anything about it—or he never did, anyway."

All of a sudden, Sam jumped backwards onto the dresser below the window, the wood creaking slightly from his weight. "I don't know how she did it," he said softly, his eyes once again focused on the corner furthest away from the pair of them. "She sired so many people, and yet she never once complained about this. She never complained about anything."

Whilst Claire quite liked that finally Sam was beginning to open up to talking about Amelie, she didn't want it to be right at that very moment: she had millions of questions that she wanted answering, and she had just been turned. They had new problems—she had to convert all her vampires to be loyal to her, and she had to find the person who shot her and deal with them justly. Obviously Amelie hung over them and her death would continue to cast a shadow on their lives—she would curse Amelie for dying every day and leaving her with the job of Founder—but in that moment, she wasn't Claire's priority.

Claire's slightly pointed silence seemed to hint something to Sam, because he turned his focus back upon her rapidly. "I suppose talking about Amelie isn't really useful for you right now, huh?"

"Not really," Claire admitted, stretching out her back. It didn't give her the same sense of relief it used to, but it was a familiar habit that she wanted to carry on with. Her routine wouldn't change just because she wasn't human anymore, she would make sure of it.

"We should make some sort of manual for this whole process," Sam mused.

"Like a How to Come Out brochure, but for vampires?" Claire added, barely suppressing a laugh. "I doubt we'll have many new vampires in the coming years, but it's definitely something to think about."

Before Claire had the opportunity to ask the first question she had in her mind—would their bond affect their status as friends?—Gérard sprinted through the door to Claire's office, a positively murderous expression upon his face.

"You gave me permission to express my mind, and so I am going to take full advantage of this right now," he half-shouted, lowering his voice as he spoke. "You swore that you would be safe, that you would keep the connection open, that you would check in with me. Because you would not let me, I could not be there to protect you when you actually needed protection from an assassination attempt—a success, if you consider the fact that you are no longer human. You should have let me help you, if you wanted to continue as a human."

His words were harsh, yet it was obvious that he felt strongly about this. The expression on his face, in his eyes, in the hard way he held his mouth—they all indicated to Claire that he was bitter towards himself for not saving his second Founder from the fate she wanted to avoid the most.

"I'm sorry," Claire said, taking a step towards Gérard, noting how he shifted positions slightly to become almost deferential towards her. "You are completely right. I did not accept the dangers which come with this position; I thought that they were exaggerations. It is quite clear that they are not. I apologise profusely for not allowing you to do your job, and for you to find out about this change in such a manner. How did Myrnin break it?"

Her bodyguard huffed, the harsh expression upon his face fragmenting. "He didn't exactly announce it, per se. He simply stormed into your home, stated that you had turned thanks to an assassination attempt, and then left the same way he came. The portals were closed off, so I had to come by foot—I travelled as quickly as possible."

Sam cleared his throat, causing the other two to turn their focus to him. "I hate to disrupt Claire finally accepting that she needs a bodyguard, but I think that there's a slightly more pressing matter at hand," he said, indicating the window behind him—the one which was broken, thanks to the assassin. "We need to find this guy and bring him to justice harshly."

"More than that, we need to bring him to justice the old way—the way that shows that our Founder is not going to accept such acts." Gérard spoke forcefully, as if he expected his authority to be accepted without question.

However, Claire shook her head vehemently, unable to believe that despite everything, her closest associates wanted to return to the old ways. Even Sam, the man who protested for fifty years for fairer rights between the humans and vampires, didn't seem to be disagreeing with a return to the old ways—not openly, at least.

"Not a chance," Claire stated clearly, enunciating every word separately. "I refuse to condone anything which has happened before—I certainly won't be seen to be continuing the old ways by burning this man alive. No, he will go to trial and he will be found guilty. We will then try and gather every piece of information he has about this underground organisation which threatens us—and we will arrest them. They can rot in jail for the rest of their lives—which will _not_ be cut by the state, also known as _us_. Is this clear?"

The shocked expression on both Sam and Gérard's faces indicated to Claire that she may have a long night ahead of her.


End file.
